The Guardian Angel
by Jeff L
Summary: A story centred on Sydney and Sark. Sydney is desperate to bring down SD-6, but time is running out. Will she blow her cover before SD-6 is destroyed?
1. The Guardian Angel Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 1  
  
Sydney tugged at the ropes that securely tied her to the chair. Realizing that her constant struggle to loosen the grips of the ropes over the past hour had yielded no results, she sighed and finally gave up. She had been sitting in the cell for hours, and all this time, she had not met her captors.  
  
She began to replay the entire mission in her head. Everything had gone so well. In fact, it was almost too easy. And just when she thought she had what she needed to complete the mission, someone or something struck her from the back and everything went black. The next thing she knew, she was tied to a chair in this dark cell.  
  
After dozing off for a few hours, Sydney was awoken by the sound of the cell door opening. "Finally!" she thought to herself. The light flooded in from the corridors and she squinted her eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. Immediately, she felt several hands holding her still while the ropes were untied. Before she had time to execute an attempted escape, her hands were again tied, this time to a low-hanging bar in the cell. Similarly, her feet were also tied, completely immobilizing her. The guards left almost as quickly as they arrived. She heard the door to the cell shut. Even without opening her eyes, Sydney could tell that she wasn't alone in the cell.  
  
"Ah, Sydney," a woman's voice said with a slight Russian accent. "It's been too long!"  
  
A feeling of disgust overcame Sydney as she heard the voice. "It can't be," she told herself.  
  
"I'm sorry we had to meet in this condition," the woman continued.  
  
"What do you want?" Sydney demanded. She had no intention of acknowledging her mother. She lost that right almost thirty years ago when she faked her death.  
  
"You don't seem happy to see me," the woman answered, a bemused expression on her face.  
  
"I'm asking you again," Sydney continued. "What do you want, Irina?"  
  
Momentarily taken aback by Sydney's harsh tone, Irina took a few moments to regain her composure. "Well, I can see that we won't get much work done today. Maybe I ought to let you get used to your surroundings first. We'll continue at another time." With that, Irina left the cell, leaving Sydney's mind reeling from the sight of her mother after such a long time.  
  
Barely a minute had passed before the cell door opened once again. Sydney was about to make a sarcastic comment when she realized that her visitor wasn't Irina. She rolled her eyes in annoyance as she recognized who the visitor was.  
  
"Can't you guys come all at once so I can have some peace and quiet?" Sydney asked sarcastically.  
  
There was no immediate response from the visitor, although a soft chuckle could be heard. "Miss Bristow, you are awfully edgy today!" the young man replied in a British accent. "I think you're much too tense. Perhaps I can help you out?"  
  
"You? Help me out?" Sydney sneered. "That's funny, Sark."  
  
Sark smiled back with an almost innocent smile. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" he said as he walked towards her. Sark stood behind Sydney and leaned in really close. "Did I ever tell you that you're a very attractive woman?"  
  
Sydney could smell Sark's cologne and felt shivers down her spine as he spoke softly in her ear. She hated this man. She hated him with a passion. Several months ago, she had reluctantly acknowledged that Sark was her greatest foe yet. Unlike her other enemies, Sark was smart - almost to the point of brilliance. He was young and cunning and in many ways possessed the same qualities as Sydney. She hated to admit it but she was somewhat intimidated by Sark. "Maybe I have finally met my match," she remembered thinking to herself.  
  
All those thoughts were interrupted when Sydney felt Sark's hands on her body. "Get your filthy hands off of me, you creep!!" she yelled. Sark completely ignored her as his hands ran all over Sydney's tight-fitting outfit. His hands slowly made their way down towards her legs and back up again.  
  
"I am going to kick your sorry ass so bad you won't even recognize it, Sark," Sydney threatened. She was so angry she was sure would break free of the ropes any second now. "How dare this creep treat me like some cheap sex object??" she thought to herself. "Who does he think he is??"  
  
Sark laughed at Sydney's comment. "Now you've got me really interested!!" After several more minutes, Sark finally took his hands off of Sydney and walked to the other side of the cell. He paused for a moment before turning around to face Sydney again, a cocky smirk on his face. "Well, that was entertaining," he said matter-of-factly. "But I think we're ready to move on to more interesting activities."  
  
"You're never going to get away with this, Sark."  
  
"We'll just have to see about that, don't we?" Sark seemed really amused by Sydney's reaction. "So, Miss Bristow, why don't you tell me about the KSP compound?"  
  
"In your dreams, Sark. Even if I were to spill the secret, I'd spill it to someone who actually has power, not some pathetic, kiss-ass, wannabe assassin."  
  
A look of mock hurt appeared on Sark's face. "You're a very interesting woman, Miss Bristow. I find you more intriguing with each passing minute. But like I said, I think we've wasted enough time in this cell. Let's move on to the next game, shall we?"  
  
Almost immediately, the cell doors opened and several guards walked in. They partially untied the ropes and led Sydney down a corridor. After several minutes, they arrived at a steel door.  
  
"Well, Miss Bristow," Sark began, "I'm in the mood for a nice hunting game today. These guards will take you downstairs into one of the halls. We'll give you a 5 minutes head start before I send my men after you. If you escape from here, then you win, I suppose. But if my men catch up to you.well, I think you know what will happen."  
  
Sydney looked around the guards and saw the heavy weaponry that they were carrying. A look of horror came across her face. "You are a sick bastard, Sark!!"  
  
"I'll take that as a compliment, Miss Bristow," Sark countered. "Have fun!" he smirked as he turned and walked away.  
  
The guards snickered as two of them led Sydney through the steel door and down the stairs.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	2. The Guardian Angel Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback. Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 2  
  
After walking down two flights of stairs under heavy guard, Sydney was uncuffed and pushed through another steel door. Immediately, the door slammed shut behind her.  
  
"Well, Miss Bristow," Sark's voice announced over the intercom, "your five minutes begin now. I'm going to enjoy this." Another chilling chuckle.  
  
Without wasting another second, Sydney began her mad dash. Having no idea of where she really wanted to go, she just ran haphazardly throughout the complex. She managed to take down several guards and armed herself. After that, Sydney just blasted her opposition away. Part of her was actually glad that she had this chance to vent her anger on her captors. Of course, she would have preferred to take her fury out of Sark, but that was clearly not an option at this point.  
  
After running through countless corridors, Sydney reached a door that looked different from all the other ones. "This must be the exit," she whispered. Her heart sank when she realized that the door could only be opened with a security access card. Normally, she would have been able to at least try to crack the security code but all her tools were confiscated when she was taken captive. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to do, knowing that Sark's men would be on her trail in minutes, if not sooner.  
  
As if on cue, two guards rushed in at that exact moment, snickering and sneering. "Looks like Mr. Sark will have some fun with you tonight," one of them taunted.  
  
"I'd love to, but I have more important things to do," Sydney answered with sarcasm. She aimed her gun and fired, but realized that she was out of ammunition. Reacting quickly, she threw her gun aside and kicked the weapons out the guards' hands. She quickly knocked one of men out cold, but the other guard managed to trip her, causing Sydney to crash to the floor. She got back on her feet to take out the attacking guard, but not before noticing small white piece of plastic lying by her feet. In seconds, it was over as the two guards were lying unconscious, sprawled on the cold floor.  
  
"Well, that wasn't too hard," Sydney said to herself as a smile crossed her face. She picked up the white plastic card and studied it. "Wondered where this came from?" Shrugging, she slid the card into the security card reader and immediately, the door opened. Cool air rushed in, signaling to Sydney that this was indeed the exit to the compound.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"What do you mean she escaped?" Kirov shouted as he slammed his fist onto the table.  
  
"She overpowered the guards, sir," the frightened guard replied, trembling as he spoke.  
  
"She was unarmed. How could she overpower a legion of heavily armed guards??"  
  
"I don't know, sir. I'm not sure what exactly happened."  
  
"Even if she overpowered the guards, she couldn't have escaped. All the exits were sealed. She could've escaped only with a security access card," Kirov continued. "Did the guards confiscate all her weapons and gadgets?"  
  
"Yes, sir. They made sure that they confiscated everything on her before Mr. Sark interrogated her."  
  
"Damn," Kirov sighed. "What am I going to tell Sark?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Kirov walked towards the office proudly, followed by his second-in-command. Kirov has worked for Irina for over twenty years, starting out as a guard and working his way to become the head of security operations. He was destined to become Irina's right-hand man when all of a sudden came Sark. Just the thought of Sark made Kirov angry. "Who does this kid think he is?" he always asked himself. "I've worked my ass off for all this time. This kid is barely out of high school. What does he know about our operations??" The fact that Irina trusted Sark with everything only made Kirov's jealousy fester. "One of these days, I'll find something to show Irina that her golden-boy isn't so perfect," he vowed.  
  
Kirov's thoughts were interrupted by Lakisu, his young second-in-command. "Sir, are you sure you want to tell Mr. Sark everything?"  
  
"What else do you expect me to tell him? Make up some story?"  
  
"I don't think he'll react very kindly to the news, sir."  
  
"That's an understatement," Kirov mumbled. "But what is he going to do to me?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
"I don't know, sir. I just think Mr. Sark is not someone we would want to mess with."  
  
Kirov snickered at the comment. "What's the big deal about Sark? He's nothing. He's just Irina's toy of the day. I've seen pretty-boys like him. They never last long, especially with someone like Irina. Have faith, my dear Lasiku."  
  
After knocking briefly, Kirov and Lasiku walked into Sark's office. Sark was standing by the window, his back facing his visitors. "Well?" he asked calmly and coldly.  
  
"There has been some complications, Mr. Sark," Kirvo replied just as calmly.  
  
"What complications would that be, Mr. Kirov?"  
  
"Turns out that your prisoner was smarter than you thought," Kirov answered, unable to resist a chance to mock Sark.  
  
"Oh? Do elaborate," Sark answered as he turned around to face the two guards for the first time.  
  
"To put it simply, Miss Bristow escaped."  
  
"I see," Sark answered. After pausing for a moment, he continued. "I'm seriously beginning to question your competence, Mr. Kirov."  
  
Kirov's face grew red with fury at Sark's comment. "How dare he?" he said to himself. "What are you trying to say, Mr. Sark," he finally replied as he struggled to contain his anger.  
  
"Perhaps I didn't make myself quite clear," Sark replied. "Put simply, you will have to bear responsibility for this blunder, Mr. Kirov. And I'm afraid you won't be able to deal with the consequences."  
  
"Is that a threat, Mr. Sark?"  
  
"No, it is not. I'm merely informing you of the inevitable. We have no place here for incompetent personnel."  
  
Kirov laughed at Sark's comment. "Look at you, Sark. You have no idea what you're saying."  
  
Sark smiled, seemingly amused by Kirov's behaviour. "Oh really? Perhaps you can enlighten me then, Mr. Kirov?"  
  
Kirov walked up to Sark and stared at him menacingly. Despite Sark's height, Kirov towered over the younger man. Anyone with a weak heart would have been totally overwhelmed by the atmosphere of intimidation that Kirov was creating. "You listen to me, Sark. I've been in this organization for over twenty years. I know of things that you would never even comprehend. I don't know how you got in this organization. Just watch who you mess with." An evil smile crept onto Kirov's face. "And need I remind you that I've known Irina for a much longer period than you, Sark. In fact, you probably weren't even born when I first met her. So you mess with me and you'll have to answer to Irina herself!!"  
  
Instead of backing off, Sark appeared to relish Kirov's challenge to his power. "So what do you suggest that I do regarding this incident, Mr. Kirov?"  
  
A smirk appeared on Kirov's face. "I knew this boy had no backbone," he thought to himself. He smiled knowingly at Lasiku. "You see, Sark, the one who has to bear responsibility for this accident would be you."  
  
Sark raised his eyebrows at Kirov's latest accusation. "Oh?"  
  
"Yes, Sark. We had Bristow right where we wanted her. And of course, you decide to play your idiotic hunting game. It was nothing but a stupid, reckless idea. And because of your stupidity, we've lost Bristow! Now you'll answer to Irina herself!"  
  
Sark began to pace the room slowly as he thought about what Kirov said.  
  
"Of course, I'm a reasonable person. There are ways you can save your pathetic career, Sark." Kirov chuckled and smile at Lasiku. "If you get on your knees now and beg me, I might put in a good word for you with Irina."  
  
Lakisu tried hard to stifle a laugh but he wasn't completely successful.  
  
"I see," Sark answered slowly. He turned around and walked towards the window. "I have a better idea, Mr. Kirov," he finally said.  
  
"And what would that be?" Kirov sneered.  
  
"This." With lightning quickness, Sark turned around, pulled out a pistol and fired one shot. A soft groan could be heard as Kirov collapsed lifelessly to the floor, a shot through his forehead.  
  
Sark calmly put his pistol away and walked towards a terrified Lasiku. Looking down at Kirov's open but lifeless eyes, he snickered before turning to the frightened guard. "Well, Mr. Lasiku, what do you suggest that we do about the escape of Miss Bristow?"  
  
Immediately, Lasiku fell on his knees, body trembling. "Anything you say, Mr. Sark. Anything you say!!"  
  
"Good," Sark answered with an approving smile. "I always knew you would be more cooperative than Mr. Kirov."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	3. The Guardian Angel Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 3  
  
Vaughn was already waiting for Sydney when she arrived at the warehouse. This was their first meeting since her last mission. He was deep in thought when Sydney's footsteps alerted him to her arrival.  
  
"Hey," he said softly as he smiled.  
  
"Hey," Sydney answered before sitting down. "Been waiting long?"  
  
"Nope," Vaughn answered as he looked down at his paperwork. Lately, he has found it difficult to think about Sydney without thinking about where their relationship was going. Increasingly, Vaughn was finding it difficult to separate his personal feelings for Sydney and the need to keep the relationship professional. On numerous occasions, Vaughn had seriously contemplated resigning as Sydney's handler; his relationship with Sydney was making his job much more stressful that it had ever been. But then, he always found a reason to back out of his decision.  
  
Little did Vaughn know that Sydney experienced similar feelings about their relationship, although she never contemplated quitting her job as a double agent. She only wished that SD-6 could be destroyed soon because she wasn't sure how long she would remain sane if she had to continue hiding her true feelings for Vaughn.  
  
"So how are you feeling?" Vaughn asked, a concerned look on his face. "I mean, after the last mission."  
  
"It's getting better. Still have a big bruise on my shoulder but nothing I can't handle," Sydney replied with a smile that made Vaughn's heart skip a beat.  
  
"So Sloane wants you to steal the SPG document in London, huh?"  
  
Sydney nodded in response. "So what's my countermission?"  
  
Vaughn handed a pen to Sydney. "There is a hidden camera inside this pen. When you get the document, scan it with this pen so that we can recreate the document when you get back."  
  
"Sounds easy enough."  
  
"Do be careful, though."  
  
"I will," Sydney answered with a sweet smile. "Don't worry."  
  
As Sydney got up to leave, Vaughn pulled out a folder from his briefcase. "Sydney, wait."  
  
Sydney turned around with a confused look. "Another mission?"  
  
"No," Vaughn chuckled. "I got this info for you. You might find it helpful."  
  
Smiling, she took the folder and looked at the contents. "Sark?"  
  
"I take it that you've met already?"  
  
"Don't remind me, Vaughn."  
  
"Well, I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Looks like he is Irina's right-hand man. And he's good.very good."  
  
"Nothing I can't handle," Sydney replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"I know, I know," Vaughn smiled. "But still, be careful. He's probably better than anyone you've faced thus far. Apparently he's one of the best in the business."  
  
"I promise I'll keep my eyes open," Sydney assured. "Thanks for the info though, it was very sweet of you." Sydney leaned forward and gave Vaughn a quick kiss on the cheeks before running out the door, leaving a dazed Vaughn standing in the empty warehouse.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"I had a feeling my daughter would cause problems," Irina lamented as she took a quick sip of her tea.  
  
"On the contrary," Sark answered. "I think she'll be quite helpful to us."  
  
"And how is that, Sark?"  
  
"Let's just say that Miss Bristow will serve as our gateway to infiltrating both SD-6 and the CIA. She'll be a great source of information to us."  
  
"You sound very confident about this, Sark."  
  
"Oh, I am," Sark smiled. "How else would we be able to track the movements of two world-class intelligence organizations and gain vital information using minimal resources?"  
  
"You do have a point," Irina conceded. After another sip of tea, she looked up at Sark and smiled. "You do realize that I have high hopes for you."  
  
"Thank you," Sark replied politely. "I assure you that you won't be disappointed."  
  
"Excellent," Irina answered. "I'm sick and tired of those incompetent fools. And what about Kirov?"  
  
"His consistent incompetence and lack of respect to authority made him a liability that had to be eliminated," Sark answered, showing no emotion or remorse.  
  
Irina nodded slowly. "I see. And who do you suggest as a replacement?"  
  
"Well, I think Lakisu would be a competent replacement."  
  
"Very well," Irina answered. "Do whatever you see necessary to achieve our ultimate goal. I've been told that you have very creative ways to accomplishing objectives. I'm quite interested in seeing you at your best, Sark."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sydney looked down the deserted hallway of the hotel and smiled. "Well, this isn't too bad," she thought to herself. She looked back at the two guards who were knocked out cold. Setting her watch, she proceeded towards the room where the document was held. Once inside the room, she quickly disabled the security system and opened the safe. She glanced at her watch. "Five minutes left. Pretty good!" she thought.  
  
"I have to say I'm impressed with your efficiency, Miss Bristow."  
  
Sydney whipped around and glared at the intruder. "You again, Sark?"  
  
Sark smirked. "Oh, Miss Bristow, you're breaking my heart. You're not happy to see me again? Even after the great time we spent together last time?"  
  
That was enough to set off the fires that were already simmering inside Sydney. She launched her fist towards Sark, but the younger man grabbed it before the fist had a chance to find its target. "Didn't your teachers teach you that it's not nice for a girl to get so violent?" Sark teased.  
  
"No, but they did teach me that bastards like you need to be taught a lesson," she shot back before landing an elbow to Sark's body, causing him to momentarily lose balance. Seizing the chance, Sydney pinned Sark with his back against the wall. She pulled out her gun and aimed it right at Sark's throat. "So who's laughing now?" she snickered. Normally, she would never do such a thing, but with Sark, everything's different. After what he put her through last time, it was payback time.  
  
Somewhat to her surprise, Sark didn't seem scared at all. No sign of fear or nervousness; he wasn't even sweating even though a gun was at his throat. "I have to give him credit for that much," she thought. She quickly glanced at her watch and realized she still had three minutes. She moved the gun from Sark's throat to his temple, wanting to relish this opportunity to make her foe pay. She was taken aback when she noticed that Sark was actually smiling - or smirking at her.  
  
"You do have a sick sense of humour, don't you, Sark?"  
  
"Maybe," he replied. "But you have to admit, this is rather humorous."  
  
Sydney snickered at the comment. "Enlighten me, Sark."  
  
"Well, Miss Bristow. Didn't your trainers at the CIA teach you that you should always make sure that your gun is loaded before you threaten someone with it?"  
  
Caught off guard with the question, Sydney continued to pin Sark to the wall with one hand and used her free hand examine the gun. Sark was right. The gun was not loaded. "What the.?" she whispered.  
  
At that moment, Sark took advantage of Sydney's distracted mind and freed himself from her hold. Reaching into his suit pocket, he grabbed several bullets and showed them to Sydney. "Looking for these?"  
  
A look of shock was evident on Sydney's face. "How did you.?" The shock was soon replaced with anger. Again, she had been embarrassed by this young punk. She had to teach him a lesson. She again lunged at Sark, only to be taken into Sark's arms. His hand covered her mouth as she struggled.  
  
"Get off of me.." she yelled, but her voice was muffled by Sark's hand.  
  
"Quiet!" Sark hissed. "There's someone in the hall."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	4. The Guardian Angel Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 4  
  
Immediately, Sydney ceased her protests and listened. The sound of at least two guards could be heard. Sark pulled Sydney into a corner of the room behind the door. The sounds were getting louder.  
  
Very soon, the door creaked open and one guard entered the room slowly. Both Sark and Sydney held their breaths. Even though they knew these guards were no match for them, they had no idea how many guards were in the building.  
  
The smell of Sark's cologne filled Sydney's senses. "This is a different cologne than the one he wore last time," she observed. "And what am I doing in the arms of this guy?"  
  
The momentary lapse of concentration caused Sydney to sneeze. Even though she tried to stifle it at the last second, it was not entirely successful. The guard turned to where they were hiding and almost immediately, a shot was fired, causing the guard to crash to the floor. Sydney was so confused by everything that was happening that she didn't even realize Sark had released her from his hold.  
  
"That was fun, but I think staying here any longer wouldn't be very wise," Sark remarked calmly, as though nothing extraordinary had just happened.  
  
"Okay, am I supposed to say thank you or what?" Sydney asked herself. "It'll be ridiculous to say thank you to someone like Sark," she finally concluded. Having made up her mind, she merely nodded, grabbed the document that she came for, and walked out the door, but not before hearing a soft chuckle from Sark.  
  
As they rushed down the corridor, two more guards gave chase. Being unarmed (since Sark somehow took all her previously-loaded ammunition), all Sydney could do was run for her life. She felt a bullet fly by before turning to see Sark gun down the two pursuers with deadly accuracy. As they headed towards the stairs, the building was suddenly rocked by what seemed like an explosion. The impact caused Sydney and Sark to be thrown against the wall.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Sydney wondered aloud as she tried to get up from the floor.  
  
"I don't think I really need to find out," Sark answered as he struggled to his feet, only to find out that his impact against the wall had resulted in a sprained ankle. "Fuck!" he hissed in pain, the first time that Sydney had seen her adversary in an emotional state other than cockiness or calmness.  
  
In normal circumstances, Sydney would have burst out laughing and wouldn't care less about her foe's well-being. Actually, she didn't really care even now. But still, Sark did save her life, sort of. Sighing, she extended her hand in an offer of assistance. Part of her could not believe that she was actually doing what she was doing.  
  
Sark glanced up at Sydney, a faint trace of a smirk on his face even under these circumstances. "I'll be fine, Miss Bristow," was all he said before he motioned Sydney to the fire escape exit. Once in the stairwell, they could hear hotel guests evacuating in the floors below them. It was then that Sydney realized they were on the top floor of the hotel, meaning that they would have to trudge down forty floors on foot. To make matters even more complicated, there were still an unknown number of guards on their tail.  
  
Sark grimaced with every step that he had to take. Despite the pain, he kept up a strong, cool appearance that would fool almost anyone. They were down to the thirty-second floor when another explosion-like impact rocked the hotel. This time, the sprinkler system began to drench the building with water. Smoke began to fill the corridors and the stairwell. Sydney briefly turned around to see if Sark was still there, only to see him fire two more shots with his gun, followed by the sight of two more falling bodies.  
  
Since it was low tourist season, the hotel was only sparsely occupied at this time. Most of the upper floors were unoccupied, leaving the stairwell quite empty for Sydney and Sark to make their escape. As they headed towards the lower levels, the smoke became thicker and fire could be seen on several floors. The two agents continued to make their way towards the ground as quickly as they could. By the time they reached the fifth floor, the smoke was so thick that they could barely see what was in front of them and their progress slowed dramatically. They could hear the sound of fire engines but otherwise, there was an eerie silence in the building itself.  
  
"Sark, you doing okay?" Sydney finally asked, still not believing that she was actually asking about his well-being, of all people. No answer. "Sark?" Still no answer.  
  
Sydney contemplated going back up to find Sark, but finally decided against it. "I better get this document to Sloane before anything else goes wrong," she reasoned. With that, she moved down the stairs as fast as she could until she finally reached the ground floor.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sark's eyes were beginning to sting from all the smoke. He could hardly breathe and his ankle was sending sharp pains through his body. Such was the life of a top international assassin. Despite his young age, Sark had already forgotten the number of times that his body had taken hits resulting from his choice of career. One day, it would be a broken bone, another day it would be a concussion. Sometimes, it would be a bullet wound to his shoulder or maybe even some unspeakable physical torture. Throughout all of this, Sark had never complained. He had never contemplated quitting or taking the easy way out. He was a professional, after all. This was his career; this was his life.  
  
"Only several more flights of stairs to go," he told himself as his steps became more laboured. Suddenly he stopped. He knew that Sydney was in front of him somewhere, but he wasn't quite sure. "What the hell was that sound?" he wondered. He moved away from the stairs and pushed the door into one of the hotel corridors. The entire floor was filled with smoke and flames. His eyes were burning and he was almost gasping for air. Then he saw it. A brief look of surprise flashed across his face before he got down on his hands and knees and slowly made his way down the corridor, oblivious to the fact that the ceiling was caving in behind him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Once outside, the street was a picture of utter chaos. There were fire department personnel and cops everywhere. Hotel guests were lining up the sidewalks, gazing up at the fire that was consuming the hotel.  
  
Sydney looked around for her contact, the person that was supposed to pick her up and take her to safety, but found it difficult amidst the confusion. She also found herself looking towards the hotel exit that she came out of only minutes ago, wondering if Sark was okay. She had a very uneasy feeling every time she looked towards that door. "Why do I even care if Sark is okay or not?" she wondered. "He is the enemy here. My mission is to destroy him and those who employ him," she tried to convince herself.  
  
She was about to walk away when the hotel exit door opened. Sydney didn't even notice that she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Sark limping out of the door. She didn't notice partly because she was too surprised. Gone was the usual impeccably dressed Sark with the neatly styled hair and the cocky demeanour. What she saw instead was a young man in obvious physical pain, wearing a suit completely destroyed by smoke and water, his hair messy, his face dirty, carrying a boy in his arms. The boy could not have been more than ten or eleven, and he was holding on to Sark for dear life. Sydney watched from afar as Sark carried the boy to a woman who was undoubtedly the mother. She observed as the mother, who had been crying distraughtly, wrapped her arms around her son and hugged him affectionately. She watched with even more amazement as she saw Sark smile - not smirk - but a semi-genuine smile. The boy hugged Sark and even more amazingly, Sark hugged back - well, sort of.  
  
Sydney missed the next few minutes of action because her mind was too busy processing this puzzling information. She was more confused than ever. Who was Sark anyway? Was he really the top-rated, heartless assassin that all the classified information claimed he was? Why would he risk his life to rescue a boy that he didn't know? Or did he know this boy or the mother? She remembered how Sark coldly shot the guards back in the hotel. "He didn't even flinch as he shot them," she thought. Then, of course, there was the 'incident' with the hunting game. Oh, and how could she forget the way he demeaned and humiliated her when she was tied up in the cell? But all of the information that she had seemed to contradict each other.  
  
She looked back towards the hotel and noticed that the boy was standing with his mother, but Sark was nowhere to be found. She shook her head and began to walk away in search of her contact. "I have to talk to Vaughn about this," she whispered.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	5. The Guardian Angel Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 5  
  
The hot shower was refreshing to say the least. All that dirt and filth was just too much to handle, not to mention the completely ruined suit. "That suit cost me a fortune," Sark muttered as he let the hot water relax his tense muscles. He couldn't remember how long he had been in the shower, but he didn't care because his mind was elsewhere.  
  
"What the fuck was I thinking?" he berated himself. He couldn't believe that he had let his guard down so many times today. He lost the document, and he risked exposing himself unnecessarily. The fire at the hotel was suspicious to say the least and yet he still diverged from his plan to rescue that boy. "You're getting soft, Sark," he told himself. All that training, all that experience, thrown out the window in the span of one afternoon. He shook his head in disgust as the hot water continued to pound his body.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next day, back in Los Angeles.  
  
"So, did you find anything?" Sydney asked anxiously.  
  
Vaughan sighed and shook his head. "Nothing yet, but we're investigating." He shrugged, "maybe it's nothing. Who knows?"  
  
"Don't you find it strange?" she continued. "That's two missions in a row. Someone is obviously very informed about my whereabouts."  
  
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Vaughn asked as he looked into Sydney's eyes. "Are you suggesting that there is a mole at the CIA?"  
  
"I don't know," Sydney conceded. "It's possible, don't you think?"  
  
"I suppose," Vaughn agreed hesitantly. He got up and paced around for a bit. "Let me see if I can get some info about this. But in the mean time, please be careful, Sydney. I don't like how this is developing."  
  
Sydney nodded in response, her mind already moving onto the next topic, debating whether to even bring it up with Vaughn or not. After a pause, she looked up and smiled. "Vaughn?"  
  
"Yeah?" he smiled backed as he sat down across from Sydney once again.  
  
"I need you to do a favour for me."  
  
A look of curiosity crossed Vaughn's face. "Sure. What is it?"  
  
"Remember the file you gave me last time?"  
  
"What file?" he asked as he tried to figure out which file Sydney was alluding to. "You mean the info on Sark?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Well, would you be able to get me some more info on him?" Sydney asked hopefully.  
  
Vaughn seemed surprised by the request. "Seems like you've taken a keen interest on your rival," he teased.  
  
"Very funny," Sydney replied with a smile. "I just find him to be much more interesting than any other operative that I've encountered. Plus, the information that I've received so far doesn't seem to add up."  
  
Vaughn looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll see what I can do."  
  
Sydney flashed her gorgeous smile again. "Thanks, Vaughn. You're the best!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"What do you mean you don't know?" Sark spoke calmly but forcefully into his cell phone. He got up from the bed and began to pace as he talked.  
  
"We couldn't find anything."  
  
"Well, it's obvious someone is in competition with us or is trying to sabotage our operations. They don't know who they're messing with," he commented as he looked out the window of his hotel suite." The sun was setting and it looked like it was about to rain. "Check with some of our other European operatives. They might have some information." With that, Sark ended the call and threw his cell phone on the bed. He sighed and rubbed his temples. He knew he was getting too stressed out, but he also knew how much was at stake here. "I've put too much into this to have it all go up in smoke," he muttered.  
  
Glancing at his watch, he changed into another one of his designer suits, grabbed his gun and walked out the door.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"So, any plans for tonight?" Agent Michaels asked as he put the documents in his briefcase.  
  
"Probably heading over to the pub before picking up some chicks or something," smirked Agent Simmons. "Want to join me?"  
  
"Sure, why not? Not like I've got anything else to do?"  
  
The two young agents laughed as they walked out of the office.  
  
"So, ever thought of settling down with a real girlfriend?" Agent Michaels asked as they walked towards the car.  
  
"Why would I do that? Things are great the way they are now! I'm way too young to be tied down with a girlfriend."  
  
"I suppose you have a point. So how is this big case you're working on going? Any major breakthroughs?"  
  
"We're getting there. Those bastards are goners. I think this will be the case I need to get that promotion."  
  
"Just don't forget your buddy here when you get promoted, okay?" Agent Michaels continued.  
  
"Of course, that's assuming Agent Simmons will live to get the promotion."  
  
Both agents turn abruptly in the direction of the voice. "Who the fuck are you?" Simmons shouted.  
  
"That's not important, gentlemen," Sark smirked. "So, which of you would like to die first?"  
  
The two agents drew their guns, but a shot was fired before they could do anything with it. Agent Michaels looked on in horror as he saw Agent Simmons slump to the ground in a pool of blood.  
  
"I would put down that gun if I were you, Agent Michaels," Sark warned, a smug look on his face.  
  
"You'll never get away with this, you know," Michaels replied, trying to sound unfazed by the unfolding events even as he obeyed Sark's order.  
  
"Perhaps," Sark answered calmly. "But then, neither will you."  
  
Realizing that his bluff wasn't working, Michaels tried a different approach. "What is it that you want, whoever you are?"  
  
"Tell me about the KSP compound, Agent Michaels."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"Well, then, I guess you're not much use to me then," Sark answered as he aimed his gun.  
  
"Wait!" Agent Michaels exclaimed. "I'll tell you."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Well done, Sydney," Sloane complimented. "The document that you retrieved will help us greatly to eradicating Irina and her organization. You've proven once again that you're by far our best agent."  
  
Sydney smiled at Sloane even though she was feeling sick to the stomach. She hated Sloane almost as much as she hated Irina. How she wished they would both just disappear.  
  
"And because you're our best agent," Sloane continued, "I think we'll have to give you this next mission. You're probably the only agent who we can trust with this."  
  
"What's the mission?"  
  
"Well, it has come to our attention that our operations may be being jeopardized by a number of moles in our organization," Sloane began. "Actually, these are moles on the CIA side of the operations, but they have asked us to take action since they were somewhat handicapped when it came to this issue." Sloane handed a folder to Sydney. "This man is one of the moles that we have identified. We need you to eliminate him."  
  
A look of shock was evident on Sydney's face. Sloane sensed this and moved to reassure her. "I know you've never taken part in a mission to kill before, but you must understand that this is for the security of SD-6, the CIA, and ultimately for the security of the country."  
  
Sydney could not believe how this man can go about justifying this murder. But she couldn't refuse the mission without arousing Sloane's suspicions. "I can handle this mission," she finally answered.  
  
"Good," Sloane answered with a smile. "I'll await your good news."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"That's all I know," Agent Michaels said after telling Sark all that he wanted to know.  
  
"You've been very cooperative, Mr. Michaels. I appreciate that."  
  
"Now can I go?"  
  
"But then you'll tell your superiors all about our encounter tonight."  
  
"I won't!" Michaels exclaimed. "If they find out that I told you about the KSP compound, they would kill me, so why would I tell them about you?"  
  
"You have a point," Sark said coolly. "But how can I trust you?"  
  
"You have my word!!"  
  
"Very well," Sark replied. "Get on your knees, head to the ground. Count to twenty and then you can leave."  
  
Immediately, Michaels complied as Sark began to walk away. As he walked past Michaels, he whipped out his gun and shot the back of the young agent's head in one swift motion, splattering blood everywhere. Surveying the scene, seeing the two CIA agents sprawled lifelessly on the ground, Sark smirked and left the parking complex.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	6. The Guardian Angel Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 6  
  
"He wants you to kill a CIA agent?" Vaughn exclaimed, his voice tense as he struggled to comprehend this information. "Why would he do that?"  
  
"What if he already suspects that I'm a double agent?" Sydney said softly as various scenarios played out in her mind.  
  
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We have no reason to believe that your cover has been blown." Vaughn paced the room as he tried to figure out a plan. "Who is this agent that he wants dead?"  
  
Sydney pulled out a photo that Sloane had given her earlier and showed it to Vaughn. "Agent Mark Valecta," Vaughn read. "Never heard of him, but I think I have to run this by Devlin before you do anything."  
  
Sydney nodded. "Sloane wants me to finish this mission before the end of the week."  
  
"Damn!" Vaughn pounded his fist against the wall in frustration. "Well, I'll be in touch with you. We'll figure something out. Just don't do anything until I get back to you, okay?"  
  
"Okay, I'll wait for your call."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Hey, Syd, you're actually home on the weekend for once!" Will exclaimed in surprise as he walked into the living room.  
  
"So do I get some reward for being such a good girl?" Sydney giggled.  
  
"Hey, let's go out for dinner tonight? We have to try out that new restaurant by the waterfront," Francie suggested.  
  
"It's not Japanese, is it?" Will asked as he made a face.  
  
"What's wrong with Japanese?" Sydney teased. "It's only raw fish!"  
  
Francie laughed as Will wrinkled his nose in disgust at Sydney's comment. "No, Will. It's actually an Italian restaurant." Turning to Sydney, "so what do you say, Syd?"  
  
"Sounds good! Let's get going then!"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Ugh! I feel like I'm about to burst!" Will groaned as he stared at his empty plate.  
  
Francie laughed as she looked at Will. "Well, I think I would feel that way too after eating one and half entrees and two desserts!"  
  
"Well, you said you couldn't finish it!"  
  
"Whatever. You're just a pig, Will."  
  
Sydney giggled at that last comment. She was thankful for this opportunity to spend time with her friends. It wasn't often that she had this chance. And it allowed her to take her mind off of her upcoming mission. "I wonder if Vaughn has figured out what to do yet," she wondered.  
  
"Ugh, Syd?"  
  
Sydney quickly snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Will. "Oops. Must have blanked out for a second there. What did you say?"  
  
"Nothing," Will answered. "Your phone is ringing."  
  
Sydney reached into her purse and grabbed the phone. "Thanks, Will. I'll just be a few minutes, guys." She quickly walked outside the restaurant onto the boardwalk. Once she was sure that she was safely out of reach, she answered the call. "Vaughn?"  
  
"Syd, where are you?"  
  
"I was just having dinner with Francie and Will by the waterfront. Something wrong?"  
  
"Yeah," Vaughn replied in a grim voice. "Very wrong."  
  
Sydney froze at those words. "What happened, Vaughn."  
  
"It's Agent Valecta," he said slowly. "He's dead."  
  
"He's what?" she asked again, almost dropping the phone in the process.  
  
"We found him at a warehouse in the east end. He was shot in the forehead."  
  
"Who did it?"  
  
"We have no clue. But something is definitely very wrong."  
  
"So now what do I do?"  
  
"Don't do anything. Pretend that nothing is wrong. You don't want to get anyone suspicious."  
  
"Okay," Sydney almost whispered.  
  
"Syd?"  
  
"Yeah, Vaughn?"  
  
"Please be careful."  
  
Sydney put her phone away and stared out into the harbour. Her mind was racing. "Valecta dead? Is this a trap? What if Sloane calls me?"  
  
"Nice view, isn't it?"  
  
Sydney turned in the direction of the voice. "Sark?"  
  
As usual, Sark was wearing a dark-coloured designer suit. The breeze was gently messing up Sark's blond hair as he kept his eyes on the harbour. His trademark smirk-grin was plastered on his face. Suddenly a chill went down Sydney's spine. "It was you."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Don't fuck with me, Sark," she hissed. "It was you, wasn't it?"  
  
Sark turned to face Sydney with an amused expression. "You are very strange, you know that, Miss Bristow? I have absolutely no idea what you're rambling about."  
  
"I know it was you, Sark. Why don't you just admit it? You killed Agent Valecta."  
  
Sark's eyes lit up at the mention of Agent Valecta's name. "Oh, that's what you're talking about?"  
  
"So you admit it, don't you?"  
  
"Didn't you like the little present I left you?"  
  
Sydney walked right up to Sark and glared at him. "Why?"  
  
Sark simply smiled at her smugly but remained silent.  
  
"Why the hell did you fucking murder him?"  
  
"It was either you or me, Miss Bristow. Either way, he was going to die," he replied coolly with no sense of remorse.  
  
"Who said I was going to kill him?"  
  
"How else would you complete Mr. Sloane's mission?" Sark turned to look at the harbour again. "Don't make it sound like you had a plan all worked out, because you didn't. You had no choice. Agent Valecta was a dead man either way. Consider it a favour that you owe me."  
  
Before Sydney had a chance to respond, Sark turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the boardwalk, fuming. Collecting herself, she took out her phone and dialled Vaughn's number.  
  
"Syd?"  
  
"Meet me at the warehouse. I need to talk to you. It's important."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sydney paced nervously as Vaughn looked at her with a concerned expression. Sydney seemed much more agitated than normal and this worried Vaughn.  
  
"Guess who I saw after our phone call?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Sark."  
  
The concerned expression on Vaughn's face intensified. "Did he see you?"  
  
"Oh yeah, and we had a very interesting conversation."  
  
"What are you talking about, Syd?"  
  
"He did it."  
  
"He killed Valecta?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"He told me."  
  
"And you believe him?"  
  
"You said Agent Valecta was shot in the forehead, right?"  
  
"Yes. One shot to the forehead."  
  
"Were there any signs of a struggle?"  
  
"None."  
  
"Think about it, Vaughn. How easy is it to shoot someone right in the forehead with one shot if the person is free to move around?"  
  
"Not easy. It's damn hard."  
  
"Exactly. One shot, right in the forehead of a well-trained CIA agent who was not bound or restrained. It was a professional who did it."  
  
Vaughn nodded. "I see your point. But that still doesn't mean Sark did it."  
  
"You said that Sark is one of the best in the business. I don't think there are many people who could pull off that kill so easily. But I know he can do it. I've seen him do it. And he can do it in a split second. It's like second nature to him."  
  
"Fuck," Vaughn muttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're not going to like this."  
  
Now it was Vaughn who got up to pace the room. "When I was driving over here, I got word that two of our agents in London were murdered in cold blood a couple of days ago. One was shot in the forehead in almost the exact same place as Valecta. The other was shot in the back of the head."  
  
"Oh my god," Sydney whispered as her hand covered her mouth. "And now you think Sark killed all of them."  
  
"That's not the big problem, though. There are some in the CIA who think you killed Valecta."  
  
"What?" Sydney cried.  
  
"Devlin believes you and of course I do too. But things don't look good at all, given your mission at SD-6. And if they link up the murders in London." Vaughn sighed and looked at Sydney with a grave expression. "I think they are trying to turn the CIA against you."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	7. The Guardian Angel Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 7  
  
Sydney walked briskly into the offices of Credit Dauphine. This was her first meeting with Sloane since she was given the mission. Despite her unease, Vaughn insisted that she meet with Sloane and try to test the waters with him. She had no idea how much Sloane knew about what really happened but she couldn't risk getting him suspicious. She just had to be alert and improvise as the need arose.  
  
Sydney entered Sloane's office to find the man smiling at him. Before Sydney even had a chance to sit down, Sloane rose to his feet and greeted her enthusiastically. "Well done, Sydney, well done!!"  
  
"So I guess it wasn't a trap," Sydney thought. She smiled back and tried her best to keep the sickening feeling in her stomach under control. "I did my best," she simply replied.  
  
"Excellent, excellent," Sloane continued, obviously pleased with the outcome of the mission. "Just like I said before, you were the only one we could have counted on for this mission."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Squinting his eyes as the sunlight flooded the room, Sark sighed and closed his black diary. He had forgotten the exact time when he first started keeping a diary, but it had become an important part of his life. After all, he really couldn't trust anyone enough to tell them anything important, given his line of work. The only avenue that he had to vent, therefore, was through writing. He carefully put the diary back into his briefcase and got dressed. After a quick check of itinerary on his laptop, Sark headed out the door.  
  
He was just exiting the elevator into the lobby when his cell phone rang. He quickly walked into a secluded area. "Sark," he answered softly.  
  
"It's for real."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"Fuck," Sark muttered, his voice betraying his anger and frustration.  
  
"Do you need any help, Mr. Sark?"  
  
"No, I'll manage. If you find out anything else, let me know immediately."  
  
"I will, Mr. Sark."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"So, what did he say?"  
  
"Nothing much," Sydney answered as she walked out of the grocery store. "He just congratulated me. He seemed quite pleased, though."  
  
"Hmm, looks like he genuinely believes that you killed Valecta."  
  
"Maybe, but I don't trust him. It could still be a trap."  
  
"I guess. Just keep your eyes open, Syd. We still don't know enough info about who is behind all this and why they are doing it."  
  
"I don't feel too good about this, Vaughn," Sydney replied. "It seems like someone is always one step ahead of us."  
  
"I know what you mean, Syd. I'm still checking into your speculation about a mole here at the CIA. I haven't found anything yet, though."  
  
"Well, I should let you go. Let me know if you find anything."  
  
"I will. Be careful, Syd," Vaughn answered.  
  
Sydney put the phone back in her purse and continued walking. She glanced at the chic boutiques that lined the streets and the cafes that were bustling with activity. She stopped to admire a beautiful dress when her purse was yanked off of her. She turned fast enough to see a high school kid running away with it before starting to give chase. Her face soon bore a menacing scowl as she vowed to teach this kid a lesson.  
  
She was surprised at how fast this kid was running, although the gap was closing quickly. The kid ran into a narrow alley that turned out to be a dead end. "Give it up, kiddo, before I get really angry."  
  
"I love how you sound when you are angry, Miss Bristow."  
  
"You again? Don't you have anything better to do, Sark. Or did Irina demote you for your incompetence after your numerous bungles?"  
  
Sark chuckled at Sydney's feistiness. "I really admire your wit, Miss Bristow. But I'm afraid we're short on time today."  
  
"Oh really? Another pathetic errand to run, Sark?"  
  
Sark smiled. "An errand? Yes. Whether its pathetic or not, we'll just have to wait and see." Then his smile disappeared, replaced by a serious, ruthless look. "Get in the car, Miss Bristow."  
  
"Oh, are you asking me out on a date, Sark? 'Cause I'm not interested," Sydney smirked. "You're not really my type."  
  
This time there was no smirk or smile from Sark. His facial expression remained unchanged. "Unless you want to visit Mr. Tippen at the cemetery, I would shut your mouth and just get in the car - now."  
  
Sydney's face became ghost white at Sark's last comments. "You.you.you've kidnapped Will?"  
  
"I wouldn't say kidnapped, Miss Bristow. Let's just say he is a guest of ours - for now."  
  
"Don't you dare hurt him, Sark!!" Sydney yelled as she tried to hold back her tears.  
  
"I don't take threats too kindly, you know."  
  
"Damn you, Sark!!"  
  
As Sydney struggled with her emotions, she felt a needle prick at her neck. She turned around to see the kid who stole her purse with a syringe in his hand.  
  
"Why you." Sydney raised her hand to strike the kid when her vision began to blur. "What did you put in that." She never finished her sentence as her eyes closed and she slid limply to the ground.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	8. The Guardian Angel Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 8  
  
Sydney woke up to find herself in an SUV, speeding down some highway to an unknown destination. Her mind was groggy and she struggled in vain to figure out why she was in this vehicle. A few more minutes passed and her mind finally cleared enough for her to think. The car was still moving and the scenery looked unfamiliar. One glance to her left and she became wide awake. Sark.  
  
Sark had his attention solely on driving that he did not even notice Sydney glaring at him.  
  
"Stop the car." Before Sark had a chance to react, he felt the cold steel of the pistol at his temple. "I'll say it one more time. Stop. The. Car."  
  
Sark sighed and did as he was told.  
  
"Step out."  
  
Again, Sark complied with the orders, knowing that it was unwise to try and put up a fight at this time. Sydney slowly got out of the car, the gun still aimed at Sark's head. She walked over to where Sark was standing and without warning, landing a fist to his body, causing him to double over in pain. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him to his feet, only to land another fist on him, this time on his face. The force sent Sark reeling, leaving him sprawled on the ground. Sydney kicked her victim viciously several times before pointing gun at the forehead of her prisoner. A smile crept onto her face. "Well, Sark, since you like shooting your victims in the forehead so much, how would you like to try it on yourself?"  
  
Sark glared at Sydney but remained silent, refusing to engage in any sort of conversation with her. He noticed the startled look on her face, as she failed to hide her surprise at his silence. "What's the matter, Sark? What happened to all your smart-ass comments and your stupid smirk?" Sydney taunted. She couldn't help but be as harsh as she could to Sark. After all, he was the cause of all the trouble.  
  
"Shut up and get in the car, Miss Bristow." There was no emotion in his voice. It was not a question or a request. It was a simple matter-of-fact statement - nothing more, nothing less.  
  
"You've got some nerve to make demands right now. Look where the gun is pointing."  
  
"If you don't want your next meeting with Mr. Tippen and your cheerful roommate to be at the morgue, you'll get yourself in that car now."  
  
Sydney's face grew red with fury, but Sark knew that she wouldn't try anything given the fact that her friends' lives were at stake. Instead, she went back into the car and slammed the door shut, refusing to let her captor see that she was on the verge of tears.  
  
Sark got up from the ground, dusted himself off and slowly got back in the car. Once inside, he quietly started the car and continued driving without saying another word.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The hotel was quite luxurious. "Only Sark would think of coming to a five- star hotel even when he's in the midst of a kidnapping," Sydney thought as she unknowingly rolled her eyes. She sat on one of the couches as she watched Sark arguing with one of the receptionists. Actually, he looked calm and collected, as usual, but Sydney could tell that he was far from happy. If there was one thing that she learned about Sark, it was how to tell when he was angry or annoyed. This was certainly one of those times.  
  
After several minutes, Sark finally walked towards Sydney. "What happened?" Sydney asked, trying her best to sound disinterested.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Then why were you yelling at the receptionist?"  
  
"I wasn't yelling."  
  
"You weren't exactly smiling at her. Oh I forgot, you don't know how to smile."  
  
Sark ignored Syndey's comments and walked towards the elevators. Walking down a long corridor on the sixth floor, they finally came to their room. Sark swiped his card and they entered without saying a word to each other.  
  
"One bed?" Sydney asked, horrified by the thought of sharing a bed with Sark.  
  
Sark smirked at Sydney and walked into the room to put down his bags. "I'm taking the couch, if that's what you're afraid of, Miss Bristow."  
  
"Would you stop calling me Miss Bristow. That is so annoying!"  
  
"Whatever," Sark answered half-heartedly. "There are clothes in the bag, if you need to use the shower or whatever." With that, Sark headed out into the balcony, leaving Sydney standing in the middle of the room.  
  
The shower was refreshing for Sydney, and it also gave her time to think. However, the more she thought about this whole fiasco, the angrier she got. She still had no idea why she was being brought here. And if it really was a kidnapping, she would have thought that Sark would bring her to Irina right away. Why were they wasting time in a hotel? And then there was Francie and Will. Just what did Sark do with them? She quickly finished her shower and decided to confront her captor. She was going to get answers one way or another.  
  
She emerged from the bathroom to find Sark sitting on the couch. He didn't notice Sydney approaching because his attention was on his precious black diary. A thoughtful expression was on his face as he wrote, causing Sydney to pause to observe her captor. "Interesting," she thought, "he never struck me as the academic type." However, she soon snapped out of her thoughts and resumed her task of confronting Sark. She marched right up to him and stared him down.  
  
Sark looked up and looked momentarily startled. He quickly closed his diary and put it away carefully, making sure he hid the encoded password from Sydney's view. As he turned around to face Sydney again, he was met with a cold, angry glare. "What do you want with me?" she demanded in a hostile tone.  
  
Sark remained silent for a minute. "You'll find out soon enough, Sydney."  
  
"And what about Francie and Will? What did you do with them?"  
  
"I already told you. You'll find out soon enough." And that was that. Sark didn't bother to elaborate any further. And Sydney knew that he wouldn't reveal any more information. Admitting defeat, she dropped the subject and resigned herself to watching television.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Earlier, in Los Angeles.  
  
"Agent Vaughn, we can't locate Agent Bristow."  
  
"What do you mean you can't locate her?"  
  
"Her house is empty, sir."  
  
"What about her car?"  
  
"It's still in the garage."  
  
"Damn!" Vaughn cursed. "Keep searching. If you find anything, let me know immediately!"  
  
Vaughn dialed Sydney's cell phone but there was no answer. He sighed and stared out the window. "Where are you, Syd?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Several days had passed and the routine was still the same. Sydney found her patience quickly running thin as Sark continued to evade her questions. She still had no idea why she was kidnapped or where Sark was taking her. Worse, she had no clue what Sark had done with Will and Francie.  
  
She got out of her bed to find that as usual, Sark was already up. His bed was neatly made and his bags packed. She found him sitting by the window. He was staring out the window, gazing out to the sea. Sydney approached him and was surprised that he didn't acknowledge her presence.  
  
"So," she began awkwardly, "where are we off to today?" She could not help but put in a touch of sarcasm to her voice.  
  
"Just get dressed so we can get going," Sark answered without turning to face her. Sydney did notice, however, that his voice was weary and tired. It wasn't the usual tone that she expected to hear from her captor.  
  
"Why don't you answer my questions for once instead of always avoiding them?"  
  
Sark turned around and glared at Sydney. What shocked her was the look in his face. His eyes were dull and his body language conveyed a sense of loneliness or sadness. "Sark? Lonely? Sad?" she thought to herself. "Impossible," she concluded quickly.  
  
"I'll answer your questions when I feel like it, Syndey," he replied. Again, his tone of voice lacked the life of his usual self.  
  
"No, you're going to answer my questions now, Sark," Sydney insisted, her voice rising in anger.  
  
"Do you know that you're so damn annoying?" Sark countered with an equally annoyed voice. "No wonder you and Agent Vaughan like to fuck in bed together! Maybe I should."  
  
SMACK!  
  
Before Sydney could stop herself, the palm of her hands connected with Sark's face. The slap was hard and loud, followed by complete silence. Sark stood there in shock, his hands covering his now reddening cheek. Sydney also stood there in shock, fearing that she might have just put her friends' life in grave danger. With that thought in mind, she ran and locked herself in the bathroom, refusing to cry in front of Sark.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	9. The Guardian Angel Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 9  
  
Sydney didn't know how long she had been crying in the bathroom. All she knew was that everything was just going from bad to worse. This was one of the few times in her life where she felt utterly helpless, unable to control anything around her. She hated that feeling. She hated the feeling of not knowing. She hated how she was so powerless in dealing with Sark. No one has ever been able to make her feel so weak and helpless.  
  
Finally, Sydney sighed and made her way slowly back to the bedroom, mentally prepared for whatever Sark would throw her way as his way to avenge her ill-conceived slap. She was surprised to find Sark sitting with his back facing her. His face was buried in his hands.  
  
She walked up to him nervously, not knowing quite what to expect. Finally, Sark heard her footsteps approached and his body tensed noticeably. He quickly stood up, but didn't turn to face Sydney.  
  
"Sark, I'm sorry," she began, hoping that this would defuse Sark's anger and hopefully save her friends' lives. Her heart sank when there was no response from Sark. "Sark, please don't hurt Will and Francie," she continued, her voice cracking a bit. She knew that she sounded pathetic, but this was all she could do at this moment.  
  
"I guess I really deserved that slap, huh?" Sark finally asked. His voice was so soft that Sydney barely heard his question.  
  
Sydney froze for a moment, not knowing quite how to answer the question, fearing that this was a trap set up by Sark. "Well, I guess I overreacted," she finally answered.  
  
She could heart a soft, but obviously sarcastic snort from Sark in response to her comment. "That's what they always say, isn't it." Sark turned around abruptly and walked to his bag, where he began to rummage through it absent-mindedly, trying to look busy.  
  
Immediately, the redness around his eyes caught Sydney's attention. "Have.have you been crying?" she asked out loud, not believing what she was seeing.  
  
The question prompted Sark to rummage through his bag at a faster pace. "You're crazy."  
  
Sydney quickly made her way to Sark's bed and forced him to look into her eyes. He was visibly uncomfortable as he began to squirm. "What do you want?" he asked, the usual cockiness in his voice totally absent.  
  
"Why were you crying?" she asked again.  
  
"Just mind your own business, Sydney."  
  
"Well, I'm stuck here with you. So technically, this is my business."  
  
Sark was about to say something when his cell phone rang. He got up from the bed and walked out of the room as he continued to speak into the cell phone. Sydney sighed and turned on the television as she waited for Sark to return. Her eyes fell on a small black book lying on the bed. Sark's diary. She found her hands reaching for the book as her curiosity got the better of her. Her eyes lit up when she realized that the book was not locked.  
  
"Maybe I can get some answers here," she thought. "It's not like he'll tell me anything anyway." Her thoughts were interrupted by feelings of guilt and doubt. After all, a diary is meant to be personal. After a short internal battle, curiosity emerged victorious and Sydney found herself opening the diary and reading its contents. She came across several pages that have been deliberately removed from the diary, which she found odd. She was so immersed in reading the diary contents that she almost didn't hear Sark come back. Luckily, she managed to put the diary back in its original location just in time. She quickly put on her best "bored-to-death" look as she stared at the television.  
  
"We have to go," Sark stated in his usual cool manner, although Sydney could detect a hint of nervousness in his voice.  
  
"Where are we going in the middle of the night?"  
  
"Just get your things so we can go, Sydney," Sark replied again with more strain in his voice. "Please," he added.  
  
And so the routine repeated once again. They packed their bags and sped off in the car, going off to who knows where. After driving for well over two hours, stopping only for gas on the way, Sark stopped the car in an open space that was well away from the main highway. A closer look revealed that they were on top of a high cliff that overlooked a deep valley. He shut off the ignition and got out of the car. Sydney followed suit and quietly shut the door. They both remained silent as each seemed deep in thought. After a few minutes, it started to get a little chilly and Sydney climbed back into the car. Sark did the same a couple of minutes later. Again, silence filled the air.  
  
"I'm sorry," Sydney finally said, breaking the silence.  
  
Sark looked at her with a startled look but didn't say anything.  
  
"I didn't realize that you had such a tough childhood," she continued. She looked deeply into Sark's eyes, wanting to gauge his reaction.  
  
Sark laughed softly, but it was a laugh filled with sarcasm and bitterness. "Once a spy, always a spy," he muttered.  
  
Sydney realized that he was talking about the diary, but was surprised at his mild reaction. She was sure he would explode in anger once he found out. "I didn't mean to."  
  
"But you still read it," he answered simply, his voice void of any emotion.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered again. Sydney didn't understand why, but the revelations in the diary changed her view of her captor. Even though she still had many questions and many reservations about Sark, she no longer felt the utter hatred towards him that she felt as late as a couple of days ago.  
  
"I don't need your pity," he replied.  
  
"I know. I kind of figured out that much." She paused, wondering whether to continue or not. "Sark?"  
  
"Yes?" Sark turned and looked at Sydney for the first time since they left the hotel. Even in the dark, Sydney could make out streaks of tears on her captor's face.  
  
"Why did you, uh, kidnap me?"  
  
"So you won't end up in a coffin."  
  
"Someone's trying to kill me?" she asked with bewilderment. "Who?"  
  
"Sometimes it's not wise to know too much, Sydney."  
  
She was now more confused as ever. Sydney's mind raced, as she tried to figure out who would want to kill her. "Could it be Sloane?" she thought.  
  
"I need to know, Sark."  
  
"I'll let you know when the time is right, Sydney."  
  
"Let me call Vaughn, Sark. Please?"  
  
"No, Sydney. Doing that will only put your friends' lives in danger too."  
  
"What? Is the CIA after me?"  
  
Instead of answering, Sark simply looked away.  
  
"It is the CIA, isn't it?" Sydney demanded.  
  
"Not quite. Just don't contact them, Sydney. It's not safe."  
  
"And I suppose being with you is safe, Sark?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"I suppose I'm not to be trusted either," he replied softly. "But you don't have much choice now, do you?"  
  
Sydney didn't know how to answer that question. Sark was right - again. She still didn't trust him, but she really had no choice. Not only was her life in his hands, but so were Francie and Will's well-being. She knew that she needed to talk to Vaughn, but she had yet to figure out how to contact him without Sark's knowledge.  
  
That night, she didn't get any sleep. Not only did Sydney not know where she was going, but now, she didn't even know who to trust.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	10. The Guardian Angel Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 10  
  
"Sir, I think we might be getting close to Agent Bristow's trail."  
  
"Excellent."  
  
"Should we contact Agent Vaughn?"  
  
"No, I think it's best if we contact him once we've actually rescued Agent Bristow."  
  
"Are you sure, sir? Agent Vaughn seems to be very concerned about this rescue operation."  
  
"Yes I'm sure, Agent Wesley. Let's just get Agent Bristow back as soon as possible. We can't risk having her reveal national security secrets to anyone."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sark woke up with a massive headache. His entire body ached and the pounding in his head seemed almost unbearable. After sitting up in bed for about a minute, his mind cleared enough for him to begin to think. First thing he noticed was that Sydney was not in the room. Her bed was already made and there were no signs of her in the bathroom. He glanced at the clock and realized that it was not yet 8 o'clock. He quickly got out of bed, only to find that there was no strength is his legs. They gave way under the weight of his body and he ended up on his knees. He was about to curse when he saw Sydney walk into the room. Sark couldn't tell if it was a smile or smirk on her face, but the next thing he knew, she was helping him up off of the floor and back onto the bed.  
  
"Thank you," Sark answered softly, somewhat embarrassed at showing his weakness in front of Sydney.  
  
Sydney smiled in response. "Here, drink this."  
  
Sark was handed a glass of translucent liquid. "What is this?" he asked as he made a disgusted expression.  
  
"Don't ask. Just drink it. You can thank me later."  
  
"I don't have much of a choice, do I," he mumbled as he drank the liquid in one gulp.  
  
Sydney could not help but laugh at the expression on Sark's face. For a moment, he looked like a kid being forced to eat his vegetables. Once again, she was reminded of just how young Sark really was. "That was gross," he finally managed to say.  
  
Sydney was surprised at hearing Sark use "unrefined" language for the first time in her memory. "It'll be good for you. Trust me," she finally answered.  
  
Sark laughed at the comment. It wasn't his usual sarcastic or bitter laugh; it was a normal, genuine laugh, for once. "If you say so." He slowly got up from the bed and started to pack his bags. His movements were slow but he was determined to fight the pain.  
  
"Maybe you should just rest in bed today. You really shouldn't be up and moving about in your condition."  
  
"I wish I could, but that's probably the last thing I should do right now. We have to get moving."  
  
"You cannot possibly think of getting behind the wheel like this, Sark."  
  
"Fine. You'll drive. I'll give you the directions."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Another few hours of driving brought the two agents to a small town. This time, there was no five-star luxury hotel and they checked in to a modest- looking motel. Sark looked drained, and Sydney began to truly feel sorry for him. She knew that he was not to be trusted. In fact, she knew she had to be extra careful around him. Yet something told her that there was more to Sark than he had chosen to reveal thus far.  
  
Night soon set in and Sydney was exhausted from the day's activities. She took a quick glance at Sark to find him sleeping on the bed. Even in his sleep, however, a look of alertness and nervousness could be seen on his face.  
  
Sydney was awoken by the sound of Sark thrashing about on his bed. She rubbed her eyes and turned on the lamp, only to see Sark breaking out in a cold sweat, his fists clenched, his hair damp. He was mumbling incoherently, but Sydney could make out that he was calling out to someone. Her feelings of curiosity peaked as she wondered who the subject of his nightmare was.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt silence in the room. She looked over to find Sark settle back into a fitful sleep. "How does a person move from nightmare to sleep so seamlessly?" she wondered. She reluctantly admitted that Sark fascinated her. She felt a desire to know more about him, yet at the same time, she felt the need to stay away from him. This conflict of wants created an ever-increasing tension within her.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"So how long have you been an, uh," Sydney paused as she searched for the right word to use, "an operative?"  
  
Sark glanced over at her curiously before quickly turning his attention back to the road. "Why do you ask?"  
  
Sydney shrugged. "Just curious," she answered simply as she watched the scenery pass by. "Plus there's not much else to do being stuck in this car."  
  
"With me," Sark added.  
  
This time, it was Sydney who glanced at Sark with a confused expression. "Being stuck in the car with me, I meant," Sark clarified. "I'm sure you'd have no complaints if you were in a car with perhaps an Agent Vaughan," he smirked as he said those last words.  
  
Sydney could feel her face turn red with embarrassment from Sark's comments. She was at a loss for words, so she decided to change the subject. "You still haven't answered my question."  
  
"Too long," Sark answered softly. His eyes seemed to darken as he thought about Sydney's question.  
  
Sydney knew she was pushing her luck, but she decided the need to satisfy her curiosity was far too great. "You don't seem to enthusiastic about your career," she quipped with a hint of sarcasm.  
  
"Not any more enthusiastic than you are about yours, Ms. Bristow," Sark shot back, putting Sydney in her place.  
  
If Sydney hadn't been so miffed by Sark's comment, she might have noticed him gripping tightly onto the steering wheel as he answered her questions. She might have noticed the weary expression on his face, or the slight tremble in his usually calm and confident voice. Instead, all Sydney could think of was how she had such a hard time reading Sark's mind. She still had no idea what Sark wanted with her, or whether she could really trust him.  
  
She was snapped out of her thoughts as the car swerved violently. "What are you doing?" she yelled as the car sped down the narrow streets of an unfamiliar city.  
  
"We're being followed," Sark answered as he looked in the rearview mirror once more.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	11. The Guardian Angel Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 11  
  
"What?" Sydney exclaimed with alarm. "By who??" Sydney turned around to look but the swerving car made it difficult to see anything.  
  
"By the ones we were trying to get away from all this time, naturally," Sark answered without emotion, as usual.  
  
Sydney could not help but roll her eyes. "As if I didn't know that, Sark! But would you mind telling me exactly who we've been trying to run from all this time?"  
  
"You'll find out soon enough," he replied before he jammed on the brakes, sending the car to a screeching halt. "Get out," he ordered.  
  
"Where are we going now?" Sydney asked, her annoyance evident.  
  
"Save your questions and just do as I tell you," Sark replied, his voice tight, betraying his nervousness.  
  
Next thing Sydney knew, Sark had grabbed her hands and they were running down a maze of alleys before stopping at an abandoned warehouse. There was little light and they had to feel their way around.  
  
Suddenly, the warehouse was flooded with brightness, causing both Sark and Sydney to shield their eyes from the sudden illumination.  
  
"I'm glad we finally found you, Agent Bristow!" a voice began. "I'm Agent Wesley."  
  
As her eyes adjusted to the light, she could see the man who was speaking to her. Agent Wesley, a tall, young agent, was walking towards her with his pistol carefully aimed at Sark. With him were several other agents who also aimed their weapons at Sark.  
  
"Well, it's about time you guys got here," Sydney muttered. "Where is Vaughn?"  
  
Agent Wesley smiled and walked closer. "Don't worry about that too much, Agent Bristow."  
  
"Well, I need to see him. I've got some information that I need to pass on to him."  
  
"Why don't you give that information to me and I'll make sure I pass it on to Agent Vaughn?"  
  
Sydney felt a sense of unease as Agent Wesley got closer. There was something about him that made her feel uncomfortable. "No, I think I'll feel more comfortable telling Vaughn personally," she finally replied.  
  
"Well, I'm afraid that won't be possible, Agent Bristow," Wesley answered in a tone that sounded like a sneer to Sydney. He reached into his pocket but in a split second, Sydney saw blood splatter Wesley's face as he slumped to the floor. His eyes gazed lifelessly up at Sydney, his forehead marked by one single bullet.  
  
In the confusion that followed, Sydney was dragged through the warehouse as the sounds of gunfire echoed through the building. After running for what seemed like hours, Sark and Sydney finally stopped to catch their breath. "You killed him??" Sydney gasped in dismay. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded angrily.  
  
Sark showed no signs of remorse as he smirked at Sydney. "In case you didn't notice, Ms. Bristow, Agent Wesley wasn't exactly friendly towards you."  
  
"And so you kill him?" she shot back. "What kind of a monster are you?"  
  
A flicker of hurt crossed Sark's face but he quickly recovered. "One that's trying to keep you alive," he replied tersely before reloading his gun. They continued making their way towards an exit when the sounds of gunfire again filled the warehouse. Sark turned around and fired three shots. Sydney watched as Sark eliminated the agents with deadly precision. Sydney watched in horror as Sark demolished the team of agents. In a split second, she landed a kick to Sark's body, causing his gun to fly out of his hands. She grabbed it and quickly pointed it at Sark's forehead.  
  
"Game's over, Sark," she hissed with venom as she stared him in his eyes.  
  
As she had come to expect, Sark showed no signs of panic or surprise. Instead, his trademark smirk slowly crept onto his face. "You amaze me, Ms. Bristow." Raising her eyebrows in surprise, Sydney waited for Sark to continue. "I cannot help but wonder how you managed to survive so long in your line of business when you have such trouble differentiating between your friends and your enemies."  
  
"I wouldn't be too worried about that if I were you," Sydney replied, furious at Sark implying her to be incompetent.  
  
"If you had been slightly more observant," Sark continued, ignoring Sydney's remark, "you would have realized that Agent Wesley was trying to eliminate you."  
  
This remark startled Sydney. "What are you saying, that he was a mole?"  
  
Sark could not resist the urge to roll his eyes somewhat. "Isn't that rather obvious, Ms. Bristow?"  
  
As Syndey tried to digest this new information, Sark grabbed her gun and again took charge of the situation. He took her hand, much to her dismay, and began dragging her towards an exit.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded even though she herself was following Sark much on her own accord. As usual, he ignored her and kept his focus on his task. Angry at being treated like a child, she punched him in the arm as a way of venting her frustration, causing Sark to grab his arm in pain.  
  
"Aren't you being a bit over-dramatic? I didn't hit you that hard," Sydney taunted as she rolled her eyes at Sark's antics.  
  
Instead of answering, Sark just glared at her, still clutching his arm, as his eyes threw daggers towards Sydney. It was then that Sydney noticed the blood stain on his dark suit.  
  
"Oh god," she gasped as she realized that Sark's arm had been shot during the earlier gunfire exchange with the CIA agents. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she realized how childish she had been.  
  
"Can we get moving now?" he asked, his usually cold eyes pleading with her. Suddenly, Sark stiffened and his facial expressions hardened. He grabbed her hands and ran towards the exit. Sydney had a bad feeling because Sark seemed very tense. Before they got to the exit, however, the doors burst open and they were surrounded by heavily armed agents. Even Sark knew that this was a hopeless situation as he slowly dropped his gun to the floor.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	12. The Guardian Angel Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 12  
  
"I've been waiting for a long time to meet you, Mr. Sark," a voice eerily familiar to Sydney spoke. Her eyes widened in horror when she realized that the voice belonged to none other than Arvin Sloane.  
  
His face emerged from the darkness as he smiled evilly at Sydney and Sark. He then turned his attention to Sydney. "Well, Sydney, I must admit that you gave me quite a run for my money."  
  
Thinking quickly, Sydney responded with a smile. "I'm sorry, Arvin. I'm usually much more careful, but Sark here gave me more than I could handle."  
  
Sloane looked at Sark and chuckled. "It's not like you to be so modest, Sydney. Mr. Sark's abilities must be even more impressive than I imagined."  
  
Sydney glanced quickly at Sark and noticed that he was wearing his trademark smirk once again. Turning back to Sloane, she quickly thought up a story to convince Sloane of her loyalty to SD-6. She didn't need to, however, because Sloane continued to speak.  
  
"Sydney," he began slowly, "you know that I care a lot about you."  
  
Sydney wanted to vomit at those words, but she managed to remain calm.  
  
"I've always treated you like my own daughter," Sloane continued. "So you can understand the shock that I experienced when I learned of your betrayal."  
  
Sydney's flinched as Sloane uttered those last words. Her heart sank as she realized that her cover was blown. All that she had worked so hard for was in vain. She would not succeed in bringing down SD-6. She probably would suffer the same fate as Danny, she thought.  
  
"Disloyalty will not be tolerated and will be punished, Sydney," Sloane informed Sydney. "But we will have time for that later. Right now, I have to deal with your accomplice," he concluded as he glared at Sark.  
  
Sark smirked in response to Sloane's threats. "Perhaps you would like to hear what I have to offer, Mr. Sloane?"  
  
"The only thing I would want is to have a bullet in your head," Sloane scoffed.  
  
"Such violence," Sark taunted. "And here I thought you might have some use for the KDF compound."  
  
Sark's mention of the KDF compound immediately grabbed Sloane's attention. Although Sloane quickly recovered and pretended to appear uninterested, his slip did not escape Sark's keen observation.  
  
"With SD-6's resources, we could easily obtain the information that we need, Mr. Sark. You're not the only person with an impressive information network."  
  
"Is that why SD-6 spent the last 3 years searching fruitlessly for it?" Sark asked with his cocky tone.  
  
Sydney almost laughed out loud as she saw Sloane's face redden in anger. She had to give credit to Sark. Not many people can embarrass Sloane with such ease.  
  
"I'll kill you first and then we can spend our efforts searching for the KDF compound."  
  
"Ah, Mr. Sloane. You do realize that I hold one of the key passwords needed to access the location where the KDF compound is stored. Killing me won't get you very far, I'm afraid."  
  
Sloane remained silent for a moment before looking Sark in the eye. "What do you want in exchange then, Mr. Sark?" he asked reluctantly.  
  
"I'm a very reasonable person," Sark began. "I've spent the last little while running all over the place with your precious agent," he motioned to Sydney. "All this action has been most stressful. So I would really appreciate it if I could spend one lovely night in bed with your disloyal agent, if you know what I mean."  
  
Sydney's eyes widened in horror. "You son of a bitch!!" she yelled at Sark, who only responded by laughing at her response.  
  
"Calm down, Ms. Bristow," he said with an amused expression on his face. "I'm sure you enjoyed the little fun we had last time."  
  
"You bastard!" she spat venomously. "To think that I was beginning to trust you."  
  
Sydney continued her verbal ranting but it was to no avail. Sloane was determined to obtain the information from Sark and was quite willing to accommodate his request to get the password. Soon, both Sark and Sydney had been brought back to Sloane's compound. Sydney was brought into a bedroom and the door was soon locked. A little while later, Sark entered the room with his now-familiar cocky smirk.  
  
"My, you certainly look stunning tonight, Ms. Bristow."  
  
"Damn you, Sark. You touch me and I'll kill you."  
  
"You look so much prettier when you're angry. I like that in a woman!"  
  
"You're sick, you know that, Sark?" Sydney said angrily. "You're a cold, heartless monster who deserves to rot in hell!!"  
  
Sark stopped his advances for a moment. Sydney noticed another flicker of hurt flash across his young, handsome face. The last time she saw this, Sydney thought she was imagining things. This time, the look stayed on Sark's face for a longer period of time before he was able to recover.  
  
"Well, either way, I plan to enjoy this one magical evening with you, Ms. Bristow," Sark resumed. "It's the least you can do to compensate me for the last few days." With that, Sark began to move towards Sydney, while she slowly backed away until her back was up against the wall.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	13. The Guardian Angel Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far. The feedback for Chapter 12 was awesome!! Thanks so much!!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 13  
  
Sydney's body tensed as Sark drew closer. She couldn't believe that this was happening. This was so unreal that she was convinced it was only a nightmare and that she would wake up at any moment.  
  
All thoughts of waking up from the nightmare when she felt Sark's hands on her. She could smell his cologne as he leaned in close and as his body pressed against hers. She tried to push him off of him but it was to no avail.  
  
"I'm going to kill you for this, Sark," she threatened even as tears threatened to fall. "Even if it's the last thing I do."  
  
"If you want to get out of here alive then you better play along, Ms. Bristow."  
  
Sydney was confused by Sark's comment. "What do you mean play along?"  
  
Sark could not resist the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. "Never mind. Just don't scream and hear me out." When he didn't get a response, he slowly pulled away from Sydney, only to be greeted by a hard slap to his face. He glared at Sydney in shock as his hand quickly covered his rapidly reddening cheeks.  
  
"You think I'm going to trust you, Sark?" Sydney asked incredulously. "You're nothing but a conniving, lying, pathetic bastard!"  
  
Sark sighed, his head hanging in defeat. "Just once more," he said softly.  
  
"What?" Sydney asked, confused.  
  
"Just listen to me once more, damn it!" Sark hissed, his anger apparent in his fiery eyes.  
  
Sark's reaction caught Sydney off guard and she found herself not knowing what to say.  
  
"You can get out of this building through the vent opening," he continued, pointing up at an opening in the ceiling. "You keep going to the end, then make a left and then a right. At the end of the vent, you'll see two openings. Take the one to the left. It'll take you out of the building."  
  
Sydney eyed Sark suspiciously. "Why should I believe you?"  
  
By now, Sark was seriously frustrated with Sydney. "Fine," he replied coldly. "Stay here. You really think SD-6 is going to let this go?"  
  
"I'll figure out something."  
  
"What about Mr. Tippen? And that lovely roommate of yours?" he asked. "Or do you want them to share the same fate as Mr. Hecht?"  
  
"I thought you said they were safe," Sydney asked, her voice betraying her fear.  
  
"They are. But for how much longer, I don't know," Sark answered calmly.  
  
Sydney's mind was in conflict. She knew she could not trust Sark. She knew that if she escaped, she would never be able to help the CIA bring SD- 6 down. But she also feared that if she stayed, Francie and Will might be placed in grave danger.  
  
"What about you?" she finally asked.  
  
"I think I'm the last person that you should worry about right now," Sark answered. "After all, I should be rotting in hell, right?"  
  
Sydney winced as Sark threw her own words back at her. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I wasn't asking for an apology, Ms. Bristow," he replied coolly. "You're probably right anyway," he added in a whisper so Sydney couldn't hear.  
  
"I can't just leave. Sloane will know that you helped me get out," she finally remarked.  
  
"Let me worry about that, Ms. Bristow," Sark answered. "So you're clear on the directions to exit the building?"  
  
Sydney nodded, though from her facial expressions, Sark could tell that there was a great deal of hesitation. Smiling slightly, he walked towards Sydney, took out what looked like a pen, and handed it to her.  
  
She stared at the pen before looking at Sark with a puzzled expression. "As you probably guessed, it's not really a pen."  
  
"What is it exactly?"  
  
"It's an electric shocker. Stick the pen in anyone's body and they'll be out cold. It'll make your escape easier."  
  
"Thank you," she said softly, a small smile evident on her face.  
  
Sark nodded in acknowledgement before continuing. "And be careful who you trust. Things aren't always as they seem." Before Sydney could reply, he continued. "You better get going before Sloane and his idiots suspect anything." He started to dishevel his clothes and mess up his hair.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"You have to make this look believable, right?"  
  
After making himself look like someone who's just engaged in wild sex, he went over to the bed and sat down. Sydney felt her heartbeat quicken as she looked at the "new" Sark sitting on the bed. For some very strange reason, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to him and feel his protective arms around her. She wanted to be close to Sark, to touch him. This was all very strange to Sydney because this feeling seemingly came out of nowhere. But deep down, she knew that these feelings have been developing for some time now, although she was always to proud to admit it. She was attracted to Sark. Somehow, he made her feel safe.  
  
The sound of Sark's voice snapped Sydney out of her thoughts. "You better go, Sydney." Two weeks ago, those would have been welcome words for Sydney. But now, these were words she dreaded to hear. But she knew Sark was right. She had to leave, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him.  
  
"I guess you're right," she finally answered.  
  
Once again, he nodded. "Use it," he continued. When Sydney didn't respond, he elaborated. "The electric shocker. Use it."  
  
"What?" she asked, her eyes wide in shock. "I'm not using this on you!"  
  
"You don't have a choice if you want to make this look believable."  
  
"No, I'm not using this."  
  
"It won't kill me, you know. Now stop wasting time and just use it!"  
  
Reluctantly, Sydney did as she was told. The moments that followed were a blur. The next thing she knew, Sark was lying unconscious on the bed. She didn't know why, but she began to cry softly. She caressed Sark's face and did what she once thought was impossible - she kissed him. She sat there a few more minutes, gazing at Sark's helpless form. Finally she stood up and gathered her things. With one last glance, she climbed through the vent opening and began her escape.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	14. The Guardian Angel Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 14  
  
Sydney was surrounded by darkness but her training gave her ample abilities to navigate through the maze of ventilation ducts. She had memorized Sark's instructions and followed them exactly. Sure enough, she made her way out of the building without being spotted. She remained vigilant but encountered no trouble.  
  
She really had no idea where she was, but this was nothing new to Sydney. Using whatever resources she could get her hands on, she eventually made her way back home. She still couldn't believe how she had spent her last few days. Even for her, it was almost incomprehensible.  
  
The first thing she did when she entered her house was to take a much- needed shower. Luckily, Francie wasn't home so she managed to freshen herself before launching into her well-rehearsed alibi.  
  
The relaxation that greeted her with the hot shower did little to relax her mind, however. She had too much to think about. First, she still had no idea of Will's whereabouts. Sark's comment about Will and Francie being in danger was deeply disturbing. She also wondered what to say to Vaughn when she saw him. That kiss she planted on Sark before she escaped sent conflicting signals to her. On the one hand, she felt horribly guilty because she felt like she had betrayed Vaughn. On the other hand, though, it felt so right. She wasn't sure why, but her attraction to Sark was growing with increasing intensity.  
  
Sydney felt torn. She was so sure that she loved Vaughn. Actually, she was sure she still loves Vaughn. But then Sark came along and now everything is so much more complicated. She wasn't sure if what she felt for Sark could be called love. But there were definitely very strong feelings that she has developed towards her supposed archenemy.  
  
She thought back to the final moments that she spent with Sark. She still struggled to understand why Sark did what he did. And despite of everything that has happened so far, a part of her was still expecting Sark to betray her. A part of her still refused to trust him, to believe that he really wasn't a heartless monster.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * It had been a few days since Sydney escaped from Sloane. Strangely, no one from SD-6 had come after her since. She even went back to work at SD-6 and nothing seemed to have changed, with the exception of Sloane's empty office. During this time, she had tried many times to locate Will's whereabouts, but with little success. She was becoming worried because Will seemed to have disappeared without a trace. She didn't want to tell Vaughn about this because it would only have made matters even more complicated. She wanted to avoid talking about Sark with Vaughn at all costs.  
  
She was about to give up on searching for Will when she received an anonymous phone call. After meeting with this mysterious person, she was told that Will was being kept at an abandoned warehouse outside the city.  
  
After making some quick preparations, Sydney headed out to the warehouse - alone. She scanned the area to make sure that it wasn't a trap before quietly making her way into the building. She was prepared for the worst but that wasn't enough to keep her from crying out in horror when she entered the warehouse. There in the middle of the warehouse was Will, hands cuffed to a hanging bar, body limp and lifeless. It took her several minutes to regain her composure before she made her way towards Will. He looked even worse up close than from afar. His body was battered with cuts and bruises and was bloodied.  
  
"Will?" Sydney called out softly, her voice trembling. When she received no answer, she tried to release him from the cuffs. She cried out in anguish as the cuffs refused to break. Sydney began to scan the warehouse in search for tools that might help her break the cuffs.  
  
Nearly an hour later, Sydney finally succeeded in freeing Will. During this time, he had been drifting in an out of consciousness.  
  
"Can you hear me, Will?" she whispered, hoping that he was not as badly injured as he looked.  
  
Will uttered a sound that resembled a pained groan. Sydney knew that she needed to get him medical help as soon as possible, but the horror of finding Will like this made her legs feel like they were made of lead.  
  
"Who did this to you?" she cried, as tears streamed down her face.  
  
Will's eyes fluttered open slightly. He seemed like he was having trouble breathing. As he gasped for air, he uttered, "Sark." before drifting into unconsciousness again.  
  
All this time, Sydney had been unaware that they were not in the warehouse alone. When she did find out, it was too late because someone had struck her in the head with something hard. She crashed to the floor, her vision blurring.  
  
She did manage to see someone dragging Will's limp body off of the floor but that was about all she could see.  
  
"Well, it was nice meeting you again, Miss Bristow," an eerily familiar British-accented voice taunted before Sydney blacked out.  
  
She woke up hours later in the now-abandoned warehouse. She looked around and noticed that Will was no longer there. However, there were three dead CIA agents sprawled on the floor, all with one single bullet to their forehead. That's when she remembered what had happened before she blacked out.  
  
Sydney curled up and began to cry. Her cries became more pained and more intense. "How could I have been so stupid?" she asked herself. "Why did I trust him??"  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	15. The Guardian Angel Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 15  
  
Sydney wandered aimlessly around town for the next few hours. Her mind was blank and she felt like her heart had just been ripped apart. She could not understand why she fell for Sark, even though she knew deep down that he was not to be trusted. She knew he was dangerous and yet she still developed feelings for him. Worse, she had no idea where he had taken Will, and given Will's condition, she began to worry tremendously.  
  
Finally, Sydney felt composed enough to return home. She had little doubt that Francie would be at home and that she would have countless questions. She wasn't really in the mood to be interrogated so she made up an excuse about being tired and not feeling well before entering the house.  
  
As she opened the door, she gasped. The furniture was overturned and there were papers, magazines and books everywhere. Immediately, panic set in as Sydney rushed through the house in search of Francie. Her panic grew when she found Francie's jacket on the floor, stained with blood. Sydney felt helpless and she didn't know what to do. She fell to her knees and began to sob. The sound of footsteps behind her caused Sydney to get to her feet. Turning around, she came face to face with Sark.  
  
"Not happy to see me?" Sark asked, his trademark cocky smirk appearing.  
  
Sydney said nothing but glared at him, her anger and rage threatening to consume her.  
  
Looking around, Sark noticed the disarray in the house for the first time. "What happened?" he asked again, his voice serious.  
  
"Where are they?" she demanded, her voice cold and hostile.  
  
"We've been through this." Sark began. His answer was cut short as Sydney landed a vicious kick to his body, causing him to double over in pain.  
  
"What was that." Sydney landed another kick to Sark before he could react to defend himself. This continued as Sydney pummeled Sark, not giving him a fighting chance. Within minutes, the rage that fueled Sydney's attack had reduced Sark to a crumpled heap on the floor. Sydney smiled with satisfaction, seeing the pain and hurt that she had inflicted on him. She bent down, grabbed his hair, and dragged him to his knees. Sark, bloodied by the numerous blows that he had received from Sydney, was barely conscious.  
  
"That was for Will," she whispered harshly before pushing him back to the floor. It took a few minutes before Sark regained enough strength to struggle to his feet. Feeling disoriented, he noticed that Sydney had momentarily left the room. He was sure that he had broken some bones. Sharp pains were shooting up his right leg and he could not feel his left arm. Taking deep breaths to lessen the pain, he limped out of the house before Sydney returned.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
In the days that followed, Sydney told Vaughn about Will and Francie's disappearance and about her encounter at the warehouse. Of course, she didn't tell Vaughn about the feelings that she had so foolishly developed for Sark over the past few weeks. She filled him in on Sloane's disappearance as much as she could and Vaughn warned her to be extra careful when working with SD-6.  
  
It was another few days before Vaughn finally got word on Will and Francie's whereabouts.  
  
"Where are they?" Sydney asked anxiously.  
  
"They were taken to Irina's headquarters," Vaughn replied. "We're putting a team together to rescue them."  
  
"What about Irina?"  
  
"We have orders to capture her or eliminate her if necessary."  
  
"When is the team leaving?"  
  
"In six hours." Vaughn looked at Sydney and offered a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, they'll be alright."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Two hours later, Sydney was on her way to Irina's headquarters, determined to settle the score with her mother and rescue her friends. It wasn't that she didn't trust Vaughan, but they really didn't know what Irina was capable of. And six hours was much too long of a wait.  
  
She entered the compound without encountering any opposition. She really had no idea where Will and Francie were being kept and after walking around in circles for a while, she decided that a change in strategy was in order. Sydney managed to locate a guard and after threatening to blow his head off with her gun, she got instructions to the main room where Will and Francie were supposedly kept.  
  
After knocking the guard out cold, she proceeded to navigate the many corridors. She made another turn before stopping in her tracks.  
  
"Welcome, Miss Bristow," a young guard said. "We've been expecting you."  
  
Sydney quickly analyzed the situation and it was quite obvious that fighting would be a bad idea. She was surrounded by well over 20 heavily armed guards and she did the only thing a sane person would have done - surrender.  
  
The guards brought Sydney into a huge room and she was immediately confronted by the sight of Will and Francie cuffed and chained to a wall. Will looked even more battered than the last time and Francie looked hurt as well, although not nearly as horribly as Will.  
  
The next thing that Sydney saw was Irina Derevko. Their stared at each other, each trying to read the other's mind.  
  
"We meet again, Sydney," Irina finally began.  
  
"What joy," Sydney muttered.  
  
Irina smiled as she watched Sydney's reaction. "Aren't you glad to see your mother?" she asked sarcastically, an expression of mock hurt on her face.  
  
"A heartless, pathetic monster doesn't qualify to be my mother," Sydney spat angrily.  
  
Irina laughed at Sydney's comment, a laugh that sent chills up her spine. "You sound just like your father when you're angry. How amusing!"  
  
Sydney lunged for Irina but was quickly subdued by the guards. They dragged her across the room and secured her the same way Francie and Will were being held. She stole a glance at Francie who looked petrified. It was obvious that Irina had told all of her secrets to Francie because she didn't seem confused at all. In fact, Francie even gave her a sympathetic and understanding smile despite the circumstances in which she found herself.  
  
"Well Sydney," Irina continued, "why don't you start by telling me all about the KSP compound."  
  
"In your dreams," Sydney said defiantly.  
  
"Actually, I think you'll be quite willing to share this information with me," Irina replied in a menacing tone.  
  
"You're delusional, Irina."  
  
"Lower him," Irina ordered the guards as they released Will from his chains. He immediately collapsed on the ground due to his injuries. The guards aimed their rifles at Will's head, ready to shoot.  
  
Turning to Syndey, Irina continued, "Each time you refuse to cooperate, I will shoot one of Mr. Tippen's limbs off."  
  
Sydney's eyes widened in horror. She struggled with all her strength to free herself but it was no use.  
  
"So what will it be, Sydney?" Irina smiled. "Loyalty to your country or Mr. Tippen's life?"  
  
Sydney's mind spun into overdrive as she struggled with her decision. There was no way she could sacrifice Will's life but the KSP compound a national secret.  
  
"I guess I'll have to make your decision for you then, Sydney," Irina announced.  
  
"Let her go right now, Irina," a voice, dripping with anger and venom, replied out of nowhere.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	16. The Guardian Angel Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 16  
  
Irina spun around in the direction of the voice, as did the guards. Sydney immediately tensed up as she heard the voice of her would-be rescuer.  
  
"How nice of you to drop by, Mr. Sark! You're just in time," Irina exclaimed.  
  
"I said let them go now, Irina," Sark repeated, "or did I not make myself clear?"  
  
The smile disappeared off of Irina's face and her eyes darkened. "You do realize that you're making a grave mistake."  
  
"Perhaps," Sark answered coyly. "But not like it's any of your business, Irina."  
  
"Actually, it is, Mr. Sark," Irina countered. "You see, those who oppose me always end up dead."  
  
"There's always a first time for everything, Irina," Sark shot back. "Now, if I were you I would release them before your pet projects up in the laboratory are reduced to smoldering ashes."  
  
Sydney looked on in confusion as Sark and Irina continued to spar with each other. "I thought Sark worked for Irina?" she asked herself.  
  
Irina laughed in a terrifying manner. "I always knew you weren't to be trusted, Mr. Sark. So luckily I bought myself some insurance."  
  
Her last comment seemed to unnerve Sark just enough for Sydney to notice a change in his demeanour. She began to feel nauseous because she was starting to put the pieces together. Sark wasn't the one to blame for Will and Francie's capture. He never lied to her. She hurt him for no apparent reason. Her former feelings of anger were now replaced guilt and fear. Sydney also began to realize that Sark is placing everything on the line for her at this moment.  
  
Irina snapped her fingers and a door opened. Three people slowly emerged. Sydney looked over and saw two guards carrying a young woman out of the door. At the same time, she saw all the colour drain from Sark's face. Sark exhibited a look of pure fear, something that Sydney had never seen before.  
  
"Let her go!" Sark yelled as he advanced towards Irina.  
  
"One more step and she dies!" she threatened.  
  
"She's innocent," Sark continued. "Let her go."  
  
"Since when did you care whether someone was innocent or not, Mr. Sark?" Irina taunted. "What ever happened to your assassin instincts? You're getting soft!" She clearly relished the fact that she had Sark right where she wanted him. Whoever this young woman was, Irina has managed to accomplish what few people have been able to do - render Sark helpless.  
  
"Now, Mr. Sark," Irina continued. "Who do you want me to shoot? Sydney or Katie? Choose. NOW!!!"  
  
"Don't fall for her trap," Katie yelled. "Save Sydney!"  
  
"Aww, how touching!" Irina mocked before ordering her guards to shoot Katie in the leg, causing her to scream in pain.  
  
Sydney was horrified by what she saw. She knew Irina was a monster, but this was well beyond monstrosity. "Stop it! I'll tell you!!"  
  
Irina laughed coldly. "Didn't I tell you that you would offer me the information shortly? So sweet of you to betray your country to save your lover!"  
  
Sark glared at Irina but remained silent, afraid of setting off another tirade of insanity.  
  
"Too bad you always look for love in the wrong places. First, you fall for a CIA operative who you can never have. Now you fall for."  
  
"Stop," Sark ordered.  
  
Irina looked over at Sark with a bemused expression. "What's wrong, Mr. Sark, or should I call you - Andrew?"  
  
"Damn you, Irina," Sark hissed. "What do you want?"  
  
"Didn't I warn you not to mess with me? You may be brilliant, but you are nothing but a toy for me! I've known about your little acts of betrayal all along."  
  
Turning to Sydney, Irina continued her rambling. "You see, Sydney. Mr. Sark here is even more out of bounds to you than your agent Vaughn."  
  
"What are you rambling about, Irina?" Sydney demanded, although she had a feeling that she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.  
  
"You see, Mr. Sark's real name isn't Mr. Sark."  
  
"Stop it, Irina," Sark pleaded, his voice trembling. Sydney had never seen him so shaken up before. At this moment, she just wanted to hold him and hug him.  
  
"Mr. Sark's real name is Andrew. Andrew Bristow."  
  
Sydney's face was a picture of shock and disbelief. She was sure she heard wrong, but she couldn't have.  
  
"Aren't you glad to see your long-lost baby brother, Sydney? Remember how upset you were the day when he supposedly died?" Irina sneered.  
  
"Andrew?" Sydney finally whispered, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"Now that the touching reunion is over with, I must move on to deal with my ungrateful son."  
  
"You're not my mother," Sark answered.  
  
"You're sick, Irina!" Sydney screamed as she realized that Irina not only faked her own death, but that she had taken her precious baby brother from her all these years just so she could accomplish her evil plans.  
  
"You have one minute to make your decision. Who shall live? Your sister or your lover? The choice is yours," Irina announced triumphantly as she stared Sark in the eyes. "Oh, and I almost forgot. I want you to be the one to pull the trigger."  
  
Sark looked about helplessly. He closed his eyes as he aimed his gun at Katie only to change his mind and point it at Sydney. For the next minute, he changed his mind over and over again, unable to make a decision.  
  
"Shoot me, Andrew," Katie pleaded. "I understand. I love you, Andrew. And I know you love me."  
  
"I can't," Sark cried out, his voice altered by his sobs of anguish.  
  
"Listen to me," Sydney cut in. "Irina won't let us go unless one of us dies. At least I know that you're alive. Save Katie."  
  
Sark continued with his internal struggle, not able to make up his mind. His thoughts were broken by the sound of a loud gunshot. Sark felt his knees buckle as he collapsed to the floor. "NNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	17. The Guardian Angel Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! I got some interesting feedback after Chapter 16. All I can say is be patient and to keep reading. Things might not be what they seem! (hint, hint) Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 17  
  
Sydney felt sick to her stomach as she witnessed the scene before her. "This woman isn't human," she thought to herself. The complete lack of expression on Irina's face sent chills up her spine. She showed no hesitation as she fired her gun at Katie, sending the young woman's now lifeless body slumping to the floor.  
  
Sark, or Andrew, as Sydney now preferred to call him, was a complete wreck. Sydney found it difficult to believe that the young man who now knelt on the floor sobbing in anguish was one of the world's most feared assassins. In all her previous encounters with Sark, he had never shown this amount of emotion. All this time, she didn't even know that anyone could have such an impact on him. He had always seemed so cocky, so confident in everything that he did. How could she reconcile that with the sobbing man in front of her?  
  
As quickly as it started, however, Sark's sobs ended. Sydney watched as he slowly got to his feet, his actions slow and deliberate. His blue eyes turned into a dark, icy shade as he glared at Irina. Then it happened. With a loud, carnal yell, Sark unleashed his fury. Gun in his hand, he proceeded to take his anger out on Irina's henchmen, mowing them down with his trademark deadly accuracy. The guards had little time to react and were really no match for Sark. Sydney saw Irina run for cover and heard her cry in pain as one of Sark's bullets hit her leg. But being the intelligent woman that she was, Irina quickly disappeared into an emergency escape tunnel. It was almost as if she had anticipated Sark's mad rampage when she decided to kill Katie.  
  
In mere minutes, the room was once again in silence, the floor littered with dead bodies. Surveying the damage, Sark once again slipped back into a half-dazed state. He dropped his gun and slowly walked over to Sydney. He mechanically untied her and then proceeded to free Francie and Will. Immediately, Will collapsed onto the floor, too weak to stand on his own, yet Sark made no attempt to help him to his feet. Francie was in a state of shock, not believing what she had just witnessed. Only Sydney seemed to be in an alert state of mind, but even she was confused as to what she should do.  
  
As Sydney contemplated on her course of action, Sark slowly made her way to where Katie laid lifelessly on the floor. He knelt down and took her hands before beginning to sob softly.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he whispered as new tears began to fall. In all these years, no one has ever seen Sark cry. He had convinced himself that tears were for those who were weak. But now, he didn't care. He didn't care if people saw his weaknesses. He buried his face in Katie's still-warm hands and cried like never before.  
  
Sydney, recovering from the shock of everything that happened, approached Francie, hoping that she was alright. "Are you okay?" she asked tentatively, realizing how stupid her question must have sounded.  
  
"I'm fine, I guess," Francie answered, not quite sure how she could be fine after witnessing everything that has happened. "Is Will going to be okay?"  
  
Sydney looked at Will and cringed at the sight of his injuries. "He'll be fine," she lied. "But we need to get him medical attention soon."  
  
Francie nodded, knowing that Sydney only wanted to make her feel better. "What about him?" she continued, looking at Sark.  
  
Sydney sighed and slowly made her way towards Sark. He was so immersed with his guilt that he didn't even hear Sydney kneel down beside him. "Andrew?" she called out softly. To Sydney, it sounded strange to call this man any other name but Sark, but at the same time, the name felt so right.  
  
"I killed Katie," Sark whispered to no one in particular. "I killed her!"  
  
Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she tried to comfort him, knowing that it probably wouldn't do much good. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't kill Katie," she reasoned.  
  
"I promised to protect her," Sark continued, not really listening to what Sydney was saying. "What kind of an operative am I? I couldn't even protect one person!"  
  
"Andrew, listen to me," Sydney said with more force this time. "You didn't have a choice. Katie didn't blame you. She loved you." As she said this, she felt her heart ache. She hated the irony of all this. Yes, she was elated to have located her younger brother after thinking that he was dead all these years. Yet at the same time, she felt sad because she was really beginning to fall for Sark. But now, things would never be the same because she was now his sister. "Katie wouldn't want to see you like this."  
  
Eventually, his sobs subsided and he regained his composure. He slowly got to his feet and surveyed their surroundings. "We have to get out of here. Irina and her men might still be around," he finally said.  
  
Sydney nodded in agreement and proceeded to grab the guns from some of the fallen guards. Sark took one more sad, longing glance at Katie, knowing that there was no way to take her body with them. He then walked over to where Will was still lying on the ground to check on his condition. "We have to move fast," he said as he looked at Sydney with a worried expression. "He needs medical help."  
  
Sydney took Francie's hand and proceeded towards the exit while Sark carried Will on his back. As they reached the entrance, Sydney tripped on some wires and crashed to the floor and yelled in pain.  
  
"Don't move, Sydney!" Sark hollered. "You'll set off the explosives." He quickly placed Will back on the floor before moving to where Sydney was lying. Slowly and carefully he cut the two of the wires to disable the explosives. Sydney breathed a sigh of relief as she slowly got back to her feet.  
  
"Are you okay?" Sark asked with concerned eyes.  
  
"I'll fine," Sydney answered with a smile before giving Sark a hug. "We better keep moving."  
  
Sark smiled and walked back towards where Will was lying. As Sydney turned to tell Francie to be careful, she was horrified to hear two quick gunshots followed by Sark crashing to the floor in a pool of blood.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	18. The Guardian Angel Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 18  
  
Out of pure instinct, Sydney dashed over to where Sark was now lying, bleeding immensely. All Sydney could do was sob as she tried to stop the bleeding. It was at this time that she heard another male voice behind her. "Are you alright, Syd?"  
  
Sydney spun around and saw Vaughn staring at her with a concerned look. She also noticed that his hand was holding a gun. The room quickly became filled with CIA agents and medical personnel as they loaded Will, Francie, and Sark onto stretchers while other agents gathered up the numerous dead bodies lying around.  
  
Vaughn placed a comforting hand on Sydney's shoulder as she watched the agents carry Sark away. "You had us worried there, just running off like that," he began. "That being said, we should have gotten here sooner. That way, this bastard wouldn't have been able to hurt you."  
  
"He didn't hurt me," she whispered, her voice distorted by her now softening sobs.  
  
"Either way, I still feel guilty," Vaughn explained. "I know how much you wanted to see him rot in jail."  
  
Sydney spun around and glared at Vaughan, startling him. "Don't ever say that away, Vaughn. You have no idea what you're talking about," she hissed.  
  
For some strange reason, Vaughn was struck by a horrible feeling of jealousy as a result of Sydney's reaction. "You sure became attached to him rather quickly," he mused without even thinking about what he just said.  
  
Attempting to control her anger, Sydney continued to glare at Vaughn. "You shot him! And here you are trying to make it sound like nothing is wrong!"  
  
Now it was Vaughn who was being irritated. "What's wrong, Syd?" he asked, his face a picture of confusion. "Sark is a heartless killer. He deserves to be given the cruelest death possible. If it was up to me, I wouldn't even take him to the hospital. He doesn't deserve it."  
  
"He's my brother, dammit!!" she hollered angrily.  
  
Vaughn was stunned into silence by this revelation. "What?"  
  
"He's the baby brother that I thought was dead all these years," she continued as tears threatened to fall once again."  
  
"How? Why?" Vaughn began to fire off his questions rapidly as he tried to reconcile the new information.  
  
"I don't know," Sydney conceded. "I just know that Irina faked her death and faked Andrew's death as well."  
  
"Damn this is complicated," Vaughn muttered.  
  
"He saved me, Vaughn," she stated simply but firmly. "He's not a monster. He has saved me over and over again."  
  
"He's a wanted man by the CIA," Vaughn responded, trying to be as gentle as possible. "They will charge him with compromising national security and for treason."  
  
"Andrew isn't like that!"  
  
"Just because he's your brother, it doesn't make him an angel, Syd! You know how many people he has killed. You've seen him yourself! What about all those CIA agents who he murdered in cold blood?"  
  
Sydney turned around and walked away from Vaughn, ignoring his pleading calls to her. She didn't want to listen to what he had to say, although Sydney knew that Vaughn was right. The only thing that she wanted to do was to get to the hospital to see if Sark was okay.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sydney arrived at the hospital in absolute chaos. CIA agents were all over the complex and inside, doctors and nurses were rushing about in their attempts to deal with their regular patients as well as their two most recent casualties - Will and Sark. After what seemed like eternity, Will's doctors emerged. Sydney immediately went up to the doctor in hopes of getting some much-needed good news.  
  
"Are you the family of Mr. Tippen?" the doctor asked.  
  
"No, I'm not," Sydney answered. "Will doesn't have any family in the country. I'm his close friend."  
  
"I see," the doctors answered. "Well, Mr. Tippen suffered very serious injuries. Fortunately, he was brought here in time. He will need lots of time to fully recover but he should not be in any danger now."  
  
Sydney breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't think she would have been able to deal with the guilt if Will hadn't survived.  
  
Slowly and tentatively, she made her way into Will's room. She was surprised to see that after having his wounds cleaned, he didn't look too bad. She was even more surprised to see that he was awake.  
  
"Hey," he called out softly.  
  
"Hey," Sydney answered back as she choked back tears. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I just hit a brick wall at high speed," he joked. "But I'll live."  
  
"I'm so sorry," Sydney apologized.  
  
"Don't worry about it," he reassured. "Now I know what it's like to be an international spy. It'll give me inspiration to move into the realm of fiction writing."  
  
"You're impossible!" Sydney smiled as she realized that Will was indeed going to be okay.  
  
There was silence in the room for a few moments as each person was lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Will spoke. "About Sark," he began.  
  
"There was some misunderstanding," Sydney continued before Will could continue. "It's complicated."  
  
"I know it's complicated," Will answered with a smile. "Everything with Sydney Bristow is complicated."  
  
Sydney could only chuckle at the truth of that comment.  
  
"What I wanted to say was that Sark isn't as bad as he seems."  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows in surprise at Will's comment.  
  
"I think he only puts up that front to intimidate other people. He tried to save me."  
  
~ Flashback begins ~  
  
"Mr. Sark? What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
"You are such a hospitable person!" Sark shot back with a cocky smirk.  
  
"Whatever games you're trying to play, you can save it," Will answered back. "Just stay the hell away from me."  
  
"Mr. Tippen, I can assure you that I have no intention of wasting my time playing games with you. I have much better things to do than that," Sark continued. "Of course, you'll make my job a lot easier if you cooperate and come with me."  
  
"What? Is this your refined way of kidnapping someone?" Will was suddenly tackled to the ground. He was about to hit back at his attacker when he was pushed back to the ground, followed by a hail of bullets flying above his head. Trembling in shock, the next few minutes were a total blur. All he remembered was being dragged through a maze of alleys by Sark. Eventually, however, they came to a stop.  
  
"What the hell was that?" Will asked as he panted for air.  
  
"Obviously someone wanted you dead, Mr. Tippen."  
  
Under normal circumstances, Will would want to knock that cocky smirk off of Sark's face with his fist, but right now, he was just grateful that he was still alive.  
  
"Why did you save me?"  
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"Because I'm confused. If anyone wanted me dead, I would've thought it would be you, Mr. Sark."  
  
The only response to that comment was a soft chuckle. "I don't think Miss Bristow would be too pleased if you ended up dead, Mr. Tippen."  
  
"What does Sydney have to do with this?"  
  
"Everything," Sark answered with a whisper.  
  
~ Flashback ends ~  
  
Sydney remained silent as Will continued to speak. "After a while, we went our separate ways. He wanted to escort me back home but I insisted on going by myself. I still didn't trust him."  
  
"So how did you end up in the warehouse?"  
  
"After Sark left, I tried to make my way home but then I got jumped by someone from behind. Next thing I knew, you were calling my name."  
  
Again, there was silence in the room as neither of them spoke. "He's my brother," Sydney finally said.  
  
"Who is?" Will asked. Suddenly he turned around and stared at Sydney wide- eyed. "Wait, Sark's your brother???"  
  
Sydney nodded sadly. "Yeah, he is," she whispered.  
  
"I thought you said he died when he was very young??"  
  
"That's what I thought too. Turned out it was all a part of my mother's schemes."  
  
"So he's a good guy after all?"  
  
"I don't know. It's all too confusing."  
  
"So where is he now?" At this question, Sydney again tried to choke back her tears. "What's wrong, Sydney?" Will asked again.  
  
"He's in the operating room downstairs," she finally managed to say.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He got shot - by Vaughn."  
  
At this time, one of the nurses came into the room. "Excuse me," she asked gently, "are you Miss Sydney Bristow?"  
  
Sydney turned to face the nurse. "That's me."  
  
"You're needed downstairs in the operating area," she replied.  
  
"Is something wrong with my brother?" Sydney asked, her voice pull of panic. Without waiting for an answer, she rushed out of the room and raced downstairs. She quickly found the doctor and ran up to him. "Is my brother alright??"  
  
"Miss Bristow, your brother suffered massive injuries that resulted in a huge loss of blood. Unfortunately, our reserves for his blood type are nearly exhausted. It will be dangerous for us to operate on him without some additional blood reserves."  
  
"You can take my blood. We have identical blood types," she offered quickly, desperate to find ways to save Sark.  
  
"Excellent," the doctor replied. "We'll begin immediately as we have little time to lose. The nurses will take your blood and we'll begin the operation."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Sydney sat nervously outside the waiting area, hoping to hear the doctors telling her that Sark was alright. Soon after, the doctor reemerged from the operating room.  
  
"Is he alright?" Sydney asked hopefully.  
  
"Miss Bristow, the blood samples that we took from you," he began.  
  
"Do you need more? I can give more!!"  
  
"Actually, Miss Bristow," he continued grimly. "Your blood type doesn't match with the patient."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	19. The Guardian Angel Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 19  
  
Sydney stood where she was with her mouth open in shock. The information was hard to digest, and Sydney had trouble understanding the implications of this revelation. "What do you mean? I'm sure our blood types are identical."  
  
"I'm sorry, Miss Bristow," the doctor said with a sympathetic smile. "But we must proceed with the operation. We cannot run the risk of waiting any longer."  
  
"Will he be in any danger?" she asked anxiously.  
  
"We'll do our best, Miss Bristow," the doctor assured. With that, he disappeared behind the doors of the operating room.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Hours seemed to have passed and Sydney eventually dozed off, although her rest was anything but fitful. She was awoken by the sound of talking. After a few moments, it became clear to hear that she was still at the hospital. Rubbing her eyes she stood up and stretched just as the doctor emerged from the operating room, looking exhausted.  
  
"Well?" Sydney asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear what the doctor was about to say.  
  
"Your brother is out of danger, but he is still very weak," he answered. "We'll need to keep him here several days for observations."  
  
Sydney breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing the doctor's words. "Can I go in and see him?"  
  
The doctor smiled and nodded. "Just don't let him exert too much energy. He needs plenty of rest."  
  
After the doctor left, Sydney quietly made her way into Sark's room. He was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, his skin pale. She pulled up a chair and sat down at his bedside. As she looked into Sark's young face, she thought back to the time when she had first encountered Sark. These thoughts then drifted to their various encounters. She was so engrossed with her memories that she didn't even notice the tears streaming down her face.  
  
Then another thought came into her mind. "His blood type doesn't match mine," Sydney thought. "Why did they lie to me?" Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft cough. She glanced up just as Sark began to awake from his sleep.  
  
"Take it easy, Andrew," she said as she tried to help Sark sit up in bed.  
  
To her surprise, she was met with the cold, emotionless expression that she had seen so many times before. "What are you doing here?" Sark asked bluntly.  
  
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Sydney answered, realizing how lame her answer sounded, but not understanding Sark's sudden coldness towards her.  
  
"Well, I'm fine, Miss Bristow," he answered tersely. "You can get on with your life now."  
  
"Andrew."  
  
Sark sighed and looked away. "Why is she making this so difficult," he asked himself.  
  
"I want to thank you," Sydney began, "for saving me."  
  
"You don't have to," Sark replied without turning to face Sydney.  
  
"I might have misjudged you before," she continued, "and I'm sorry for that."  
  
Sark snickered in response to Sydney's apology. "Why are you telling me all this?"  
  
"Because."  
  
"Don't you have other things to do besides hanging around a cold-blooded psychopath killer's hospital room?" Sark shot back. "If your precious CIA handler is worried about me escaping, you can tell him to relax. I'm not going to go anywhere for a while."  
  
"Andrew." Sydney began.  
  
"Since when did I switch from being Sark to Andrew?"  
  
Sydney was becoming frustrated with Sark's attitude towards her. This wasn't what she had expected to happen. "This isn't easy for me either, you know."  
  
Again, Sark only responded by a cold snicker. "If you say so, Miss Bristow."  
  
"Look!" Sydney said in a voice louder than she had intended. "You think it's easy for me to find out that my mother was a psychopath, that my mortal enemy was actually my younger brother, that my friends were taken hostage and beaten, then only to see my newfound brother being shot by my handler, only to find out that this whole fiasco was a lie??"  
  
Sark turned to face Sydney, his eyes were cold and distant. "That's tough, Miss Bristow. Life sucks, doesn't it?"  
  
Sydney had just about had it with Mr. Cold. "Just what the hell is your problem??"  
  
"Nothing," Sark answered curtly. "Just leave."  
  
"Oh no, you don't," Sydney countered. "Not after everything I've been through the last few days. You're not just going to tell me to leave."  
  
Sark sighed again, knowing that he could not force Sydney to leave. "What do you want?" he asked with resignation.  
  
"First of all, why did you and Irina lie to me?" Sydney flinched as she saw Sark's head snap up and his ice blue eyes suddenly become fiery.  
  
"What the fuck was that supposed to mean?" he snapped, anger apparently in his voice.  
  
Having gone too far to turn back, Sydney could do little but to continue. "My brother and I were really close when we were young," she began. "We did everything together. People always thought we were twins or something. We were so alike in so many ways; even our blood types were identical."  
  
Sark looked at Sydney without saying a word. "So what are you getting at?"  
  
"The doctors told me that you and I didn't share the same blood type," she answered as she choked back tears that threatened to fall. "Why did you do this to me?"  
  
Sark stared at her in silence. No one spoke a word for several minutes. Finally, Sark spoke, his voice hoarse. "You think that I lied to you about my identity," he said softly. "You think that Irina and I set you up."  
  
"I didn't say that."  
  
"You didn't have to," Sark answered, cutting her off. "Get out," he finally said, softly but firmly.  
  
Sydney sighed, knowing that her words came out harsher than she had wanted. "Andrew."  
  
"GET OUT!!" Sark shouted, his voice betraying his anger and fury. Knowing that staying around wouldn't do much good, Sydney decided to heed Sark's orders.  
  
"I'll come back to see you later on," she said softly as she gathered her belongings. As she put on her jacket, the door suddenly opened as several men in dark suits entered the room.  
  
Before Sydney could ask what was going on, one of the men spoke. "Mr. Sark, you're hereby placed under arrest on charges of murder and committing treasonous acts against the United States of America."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	20. The Guardian Angel Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 20  
  
Sydney stood where she was as the men led Sark away. Because of his condition, they wheeled him out in a wheelchair. Sydney's mind was so confused, she couldn't do anything to react. By the time she came to her senses, the men and Sark were already gone.  
  
The only thing that Sydney could think of doing was to call Vaughn. As she drove to the warehouse, her mind was still a blur. So much of the information didn't piece together. She had trouble deciding what to believe and what to treat as lies.  
  
Vaughn was already waiting for her when Sydney arrived. A look of concern crossed Vaughn's face he saw Sydney walk towards him.  
  
"Hey," he greeted softly.  
  
Sydney didn't answer him. Instead, she just sat down in the chair and buried her face in her hands.  
  
"How are you feeling?" he asked, not wanting to upset Sydney even more.  
  
"The doctors said that his blood type didn't match mine," she muttered.  
  
"I know."  
  
Sydney lifted her head and looked Vaughn in the eye. "How?"  
  
"We did some tests while Sark was in operation," he answered. "He's not your brother."  
  
"I sort of figured that out," Sydney replied half-heartedly. "I just don't understand why."  
  
"Because he wanted to take advantage of you," Vaughn answered. "Sark's a master manipulator. He would never hesitate to hurt anyone to advance his own goals."  
  
"What if he's not lying?"  
  
"Come on, Syd," Vaughn reasoned. "You and I both know what kind of a person Sark is. He's a psychopathic murderer, for god sakes."  
  
"He's not like that," she whispered.  
  
"What?" Vaughn asked, not able to catch what Sydney had just said.  
  
"Sark's not a psychopathic murderer."  
  
"You're kidding, right?"  
  
"He saved me," she continued. "Many times."  
  
"Only to advance his own agenda," he added.  
  
"You don't know that."  
  
"Why are you even defending the bastard?"  
  
"Why won't you give him the benefit of the doubt?" Sydney countered as she met Vaughn's eyes defiantly.  
  
Vaughn sighed, knowing that it was probably pointless to continue arguing. What he couldn't understand was why Sydney had such a hard time believing that Sark was only getting what he deserved.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next few days passed by slowly for Sydney. Although she tried numerous times to get information on Sark, she was unable to obtain anything meaningful. It because obvious to her that the CIA was deliberately keeping information from her. They wouldn't tell her where Sark was or what they were planning to do with him. As the days passed, her frustration began to grow and this was obvious in her increasingly hostile attitude towards the CIA.  
  
"I need to see him," Sydney said as she stared at Vaughn.  
  
"I can't do that. I don't even know where he is," Vaughn answered, hoping foolishly that this would satisfy Sydney.  
  
"Well, find out where he is," she demanded, refusing to back down.  
  
Vaughn sighed before replying. "I'm sorry, Sydney. There's nothing I can do."  
  
No expression on her face, Sydney just turned and walked away, not even bothering to acknowledge Vaughn.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
She got home to find Will in the living room watching television. He was still nursing his injuries but was recovering quite well. "Hey, Syd," he greeted as Sydney entered the house.  
  
"Hey," she answered tiredly.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Come on, Syd," Will pleaded. "You know you can't fool me." When Sydney didn't answer, Will decided to try another approach. "Something to do with Sark?"  
  
"Why would you say that?"  
  
"Because of that look on your face."  
  
"What look?"  
  
"The look that tells everyone you are worried sick for someone you care about," Will continued. "And somehow I don't think that someone is me."  
  
A look of guilt was evident on Sydney's face. Sitting down next to Will, she began to fidget with her hands. "You know I do care about you, Will."  
  
Will chuckled at the response. "Of course I know, Syd," he said reassuringly. "I was just teasing you." Then, looking serious again, he looked at Sydney in the eyes. "Don't worry about Sark, he can take care of himself. If there is one person who can take care of himself brilliantly in the worst of circumstances, it'll be Sark."  
  
Sydney sighed and smiled slightly. "I guess you're right."  
  
"You guess?" Will answered with mock indignance. "You mean you know I'm right."  
  
Sydney answered with a laugh.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing. Just find it strange to hear Will Tippen defending the infamous Mr. Sark."  
  
Will shook his head and smiled. "Never thought I would say such a thing either. But like I said before, he's not as bad as people make him out to be."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Several days had passed and still no news of Sark. Vaughn had tried to call Sydney a number of times but she refused to talk to him. Gradually, she became resigned to believe that Sark was taken away to some secret CIA location to be tortured and interrogated. Even though it was against official policy to torture, Sydney knew all too well what the CIA was really like. She shuddered at the thought.  
  
Will was out with Francie tonight so Sydney was on her own when it came to making dinner. After dropping by the grocery store to pick up some pasta, she made her way home. Without bothering to turn on the light, she walked into the kitchen to drop off her bags before making her way back to her room. As she navigated through the hallway, she had an eerie feeling that she was being watched. She shook her fears away and told herself that she was freaking out for no reason. She succeeded, until she heard a voice in the dark.  
  
"Good evening, Miss Bristow."  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


	21. The Guardian Angel Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Alias is owned by ABC, Touchstone, is the creation of JJ Abrams and Bad Robot Productions.  
  
This is my first Alias fic. I'd love to get feedback! Please review the story or e-mail me at jeff_langdon@hotmail.com! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed the story so far.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Guardian Angel - Chapter 21  
  
Sydney swung around upon hearing the voice in the dark. She turned on the light to find Sark sitting on the couch, smirking at her.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she gasped.  
  
"Well, hello to you too!" Sark responded in his trademark cocky demeanor.  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
"I have my ways," Sark answered.  
  
Silence soon filled the room as both of them stared at each other. Neither said a word, because neither knew what to say. Remembering the hospital scene, Sydney reminded herself to steer clear of the question on Sark's honesty. She felt awkward, not knowing how to act around Sark.  
  
The silence was broken when Sark spoke. "I didn't lie to you."  
  
Sydney's eyes widened slightly in surprise. She wasn't expecting Sark to bring this up so soon.  
  
"But then again, why should you believe me?" Sark continued, his voice tainted with bitterness.  
  
Again, Sydney was at a loss for words. A large part of her really wanted to believe Sark but there was still that annoying voice in the back of her head telling her otherwise.  
  
"Anyway, I should go," he said as he got up from the couch.  
  
"Andrew."  
  
Sark chuckled softly, although his eyes betrayed the sadness that threatened to crush him. "She won," he muttered softly as he gazed off into the distance.  
  
"It's not over yet," Sydney answered while asking herself if she even knew what she was saying. As she said this, she once again realized the pure evil that defined Irina. That fact that she could lie to Sark about his identity for all these years made Sydney feel sick to the stomach.  
  
"She played me like the perfect toy. She's probably laughing her head off now."  
  
"Nobody has won anything, Andrew," Sydney continued. "There's still a long way to go before anyone can claim victory."  
  
"Perhaps," Sark answered. "All I know is that she is going to pay for trying to fuck with me."  
  
"That's more like the Sark that I know," she said with a faint smile.  
  
Sark responded with a brief smirk. "Well, you must be awfully happy now."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"At least you don't have to go around and announce to the world that you have a heartless murderer as your brother," he answered, half-jokingly.  
  
Sydney cringed slightly as she heard Sark's words. "I don't know that much about you," she began, "but somehow, I don't think you'd make too bad of a brother." She wasn't lying. She wasn't able to deny it anymore. She had grown fond of Sark. In fact, she was somewhat glad that Sark wasn't her brother, because she was sure that she was falling in love with him.  
  
Another smirk from Sark. "Interesting," he comments cockily. "Miss Bristow is complementing me. A historic moment indeed."  
  
Sydney could not help but grin at this comment. Although she cared for Vaughn deeply, she could never experience moments such as these with him. Vaughn made her feel safe, but he didn't really make her feel happy. "So what do you plan to do now?" she finally asked as her mind snapped back to reality.  
  
"There's some unfinished business I need to take care of," Sark answered seriously, his blue eyes showing great intensity.  
  
"Don't do anything stupid," Sydney cautioned, although she knew that Sark was probably more level-headed than herself when it came to dangerous situations.  
  
"Is it just me or are you actually concerned for my safety?" he answered as a boyish smirk emerged on his face.  
  
"Don't push it, Andrew," she replied with a mischievous grin.  
  
The sound of a car pulling up the driveway startled both of them. "I have to go, Sydney."  
  
"How can I contact you?"  
  
"I'll keep in touch, don't worry," he answered vaguely. As he walked out the back door, he turned around once again. "Oh, and Sydney?" he began, "be careful of who you trust. Things aren't always as they seem."  
  
He was gone before Sydney could ask him about his mysterious comment. The door soon opened as Francie and Will walked in. "Hey Syd," Francie called out cheerfully. "What are you doing standing alone in the living room?"  
  
"Oh, I couldn't the novel that I was reading," she lied. "I've been looking all over the house for it."  
  
"Silly girl," Francie laughed, "it's right there on the couch!"  
  
Sydney forced a smile at her lame excuses, hoping that Francie would not notice. She breathed a sigh of relief when her roommate began to tell her all about her date with Will. As she began to relax listening to Francie's stories, she was jolted back to alertness by Francie's sudden outcry. "Syd! You're so bad!!!"  
  
A look of confusion was all Sydney could muster as a reaction.  
  
"Don't play innocent with me, Sydney Bristow," Francie answered with a mock angry tone. "Reading a novel indeed!! You really think that I would not notice the scent of this exquisite cologne lingering in the air?"  
  
Sydney opened her mouth to reply but no words came out.  
  
"So who he?" Francie asked with a sly smile. "Is he cute?"  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes and smiled. "He's just a friend from work. No big deal!"  
  
After a few more minutes of prodding for details, Francie decided to make herself a snack. As she disappeared into the kitchen, Will came and sat beside Sydney. "So how did he manage to escape?"  
  
Sydney sighed and shrugged. "I have no idea. He says that he has his ways."  
  
Will chuckled at the response. "Typical Sark answer."  
  
Sydney responded by nodding. "I just can't figure him out."  
  
"Sark is not your ordinary guy, you know."  
  
The two remained in relative silence for a few moments before Will spoke again. "Something else bothering you?"  
  
"Andrew told me something just before he left."  
  
Sydney hesitated as she debated whether to tell Will or not. "He told me that he wanted me to help him find his real family," she replied, deciding to lie and heed Sark's advice about not trusting anyone.  
  
~ to be continued ~ 


End file.
